A Constant Throb
by SetMeFree1
Summary: Sandor is a bodyguard for Ned Stark. On a routine pickup something goes wrong leaving Ned's daughter Sansa in trouble. Sandor must think on his feet to save her and get them both out of trouble. The duo could not be more opposite but with danger at their heels they must learn to get along.
1. Chapter 1

A CONSTANT THROB

Part I

" Get in the car _now_."

In Sandor Clegane's line of work idle threats were as common as five hookers to every city block, but he didn't do idle threats and the pouting red head stomping her stiletto heels on the concrete sidewalk like a five year old damn well knew it.

With a rap of his knuckles the passenger side window of the stretch limo rolled down in a smooth hum against the noisy city backdrop. His other hand was searching blindly in his front pocket for the last of the Advil he taken with him this morning; his headache thrumming against his eyelids like an out of control heavy metal drummer

"Yeah what?"

The driver was new. His attitude was probably not. He had the face of an asshole; someone who had been pampered with attention growing up when what he needed was a good ass kicking. The smug up turn of his nose, the pompous squint of his eyes made Sandor itch to deck him. Unfortunately he wasn't in charge of the hiring and firing of the Stark Enterprise otherwise this little prick wouldn't have made it pass the interview.

" We're going home," he ordered, not bothering to hide the personal aversion in his voice. " Make it quick. Take 47th all the way down."

The driver opened his mouth to say something that was of no importance to Sandor and so he walked away, finally finding the last pill of relief from the everlasting dull ache in between his eyes. He gulped it down easy even without the help of water.

Eyeing the door where the little brat of a princess was probably bubbling with complaint after complaint made him sigh upward toward the dark starless sky. Fucking glorified babysitter.

There was a time he used to kill in the name of the great Ned Stark. Bodyguard was his title but personal trained killer was what they paid him the big bucks for.

Now he was reduced to picking up dry cleaning or ordering in food. The days of war and territory were a faint memory with the peace that had overtaken the streets when Ned finally took reign. Sandor was happy for the quiet, obliged the tranquility that laid over the riled city like a invisible comforter, but these fucking bullshit calls to pick up college kids and recite just say no speeches was not what he signed up for.

Peeved at the lack of action in a job he used to thrive at, Sandor swung open the door with more than a little contempt with the situation. The door moaned a bit in protest but he ignored the sound, slamming it shut just as hard and making the little princess next to him jump in her seat.

The corner of his mouth hitched in delight. Good. Maybe she'd shut the hell up and the ride back would be an easy one. And he could go back to …what's her name…

" I wasn't doing anything wrong." Her voice was thick with angsty hormonal emotion. " Dad said I could go."

How long did it take for Advil to kick in?

He rolled the gum around in his mouth. The taste was gone and the consistent chomping was probably what brought on his headache to begin with. Next to the little debutant beside him.

It was the quiet ones you had to watch out for that was a certainty.

He had been with the Stark's since Sansa was in middle school. She always kept to herself, had her small group of friends, played girly things he had no care to know about, and went to her room when most of the family was watching TV or playing a board game. High school hadn't changed her much except for the mounting calls from boys, more makeup, and less dolls to clean up.

Back from her first year away at college and now her true self was beginning to show he guessed. She dressed with the same bright feminine colors maybe a little more risqué for his taste, but her attitude was what rubbed him the wrong way. The superior edge, every word held a fresh wave of entitlement. Especially with him. He wanted to beat her bottom red or at least offer up the suggestion to her parents, but they had enough on their plate raising five children and running a successful enterprise.

Arya, on the other hand, was his girl.

The duo got along like two peas in a pod. As if they were blood kin. From the very first day when she asked him to toss around the football while he waited to go to a meeting with her dad, they had become inseparable. She was a spitfire herself, but with a tomboyish ease. Nothing fazed her. She was just low maintenance and fun to be around her.

Not at all like this one.

" Did you hear a word I said?" she rumbled in her chest, agitated with his silent treatment.

_I'm your bodyguard princess, not your father. Take it up with him_ was what he wanted to say. But instead he gifted her with a black glare, one that made grown men back away and drop their weapons.

She had the decency to blush but she didn't break contact. In fact she looked content to keep going until one of them blinked like it was some fucking contest. He was the first to look away. Uncomfortable.

Her skirt was too high, her heels were a neck break waiting to happen and she was wearing too much fucking makeup for an eighteen year old.

" Are you going to tell my dad what you saw?"

The driver made a too quick right and Sansa fell against him. She held on to his bicep to steady herself and Sandor pushed her off the rest of the way not liking her touch on him.

The air in the small space suddenly stuffy, he unbuttoned the two top buttons of his shirt with one hand while lowering the window a bit for fresh clean air. He spit his stale gum out and raised the window leaving just a crack open so he could breathe. There was a whole bench of seating in this absurdly large vehicle and yet she had to sit right on top of him.

Was he going to tell her dad? Hmph. Was this an episode of some teen drama flick or something? Fuck that.

His next words would not sit well with her but that was not going to be his mess to clean up. " You disobeyed your father. So yes. I'm going to tell him," he informed her plainly. His vision on the road ahead.

She, of course, was immediately turning towards him, clutching at his elbow. He could practically feel the hesitation and panic rolling off her. Everything was life and death to women. Especially the young ones.

" Please…I swear, he said I could go out. I got invited to this after party and Joff said we wouldn't be there past my curfew. Neither of us realized we were there so long. It's not my fault…I wasn't driving," the panic bled through at the end of her explanation.

" Joff?" he questioned, watching her squirm under his scrutiny.

She gulped down hard and he could tell she was weighing her options. She went with her standard snotty face as of late. " My boyfriend."

Something about the way she explained herself made Sandor uneasy. Almost like a declaration …rubbing something in his face. Her chin was raised in a haughty manner, a dare, and for some inexplicable reason Sandor's eyes fell to her mouth. More specifically paying close attention to the shape of her lips.

Clearing his throat he pulled away from her desperate grasp. " Boyfriend," he muttered, wanting to roll his eyes but thought better of stooping to her adolescent level and watched as the buildings passed by them like a flipbook.

" He _is _my boyfriend." She sounded insulted now. " Whether father and mother…or you don't approve." He snorted at her accent of the word you and that further fueled her rampage of words. " I'm an adult. I've been away at school for a year now. I think I can handle having a boyfriend. It's not like my grades have slipped or I haven't let myself get involved in other activities. I wouldn't …I wont let him take over my life. I wouldn't do that again…" she ended softly, her eyes downcast, caught in a memory.

That had to be the most he had ever heard the little chirper say in all his days as a Stark employee. He used to tease her when she was young enough and still pleasant calling her a chirper or little bird because of how obedient and obliging she was to everyone around her.

He watched her now. The knot she was making with the loop of her pocketbook string. " Again?" He gruffly questioned. Not caring but for some reason the word spilled out. Curiosity got the better of him and this damn ride was lasting longer than he liked.

She reddened under the question, a bit caught off some guard she had been using as protection for the past countless years with him. She answered, her voice set in another time and place. " Yes. Again," she admitted with a bitter chuckle.

An odd notion to soothe her pricked at the corner of his dulling headache. Her long hair shielded her face from view, along with the multiple layers of defensiveness he didn't have the strength to battle. He was too busy working. He was too busy being distracted by her blush, wondering when that had become something more than just cute.

She used to turn bright scarlet whenever he called her those pet names but than somewhere between high school and realizing she was catching the eyes of the opposite sex Sansa started to show her distaste for the small endearment, huffing out an exasperated breath or turning her back to him whenever he uttered the phrase. He didn't fight her need for space to grow up so he backed off and took with him the little remaining bridge of civility between them.

" I-I…" she licked her cherry red lips. " I used to…well…"

Sandor shifted as far away from her as he could. He wasn't sure where she was going with this, but he certainly wasn't up for a night of baring souls or braiding hair. For fuck's sake they had to be almost home by now.

Rolling down the partition Sandor didn't hide the bark of irritation as he spoke.

" Where the bloody hell are we? I told you to take 47th it's quicker that way."

" Sorry sir," the arrogant little blonde shit met in his eyes in the rearview. He didn't look one bit sorry. " I thought you said take 42nd."

Biting down a curse Sandor got a slight inkling this guy was baiting him. " Why would I say that when 42nd is all tourists traffic and bullshit?" he gritted out deadpan.

The shrug of his shoulders was going to be his only answer.

" It won't be me you have to answer to kid. Better think of something to tell Mr. Stark when we get back." And with that he pressed the button up for the divider, letting his displeased glare speak the rest of the unsaid threat.

Sansa had turned back forward, unaware that her shiny black skirt had ridden higher on her thighs.

He planted her with a disapproving glare. " Fix your damn skirt." There was more bite in the sentence than there needed to be. He didn't know why he was being so harsh with her. She had just come back for summer vacation not two weeks ago. It wasn't like he had to deal with her antics around the clock.

Her watery gaze landed his way, sniffling as she straightened her outfit. Than wiping the moisture from under her pointy little nose. She was mad at him again now and for some odd reason the thought amused him.

" Joff likes the way I dress." She retorted, that princessy tinge laced in every syllable.

He didn't bother wasting breath on an answer.

" He said it's sexy." Her head tilted sideways at him, gunning for a reaction. " He says I'm the most beautiful girl he has ever met. He says I'm his and no one else's."

Rubbing the sides of his temple with his fingers, Sandor closed his eyes. " This Joff sounds like a fucking cunt."

" Don't you say that about him! You don't even know him!" She yelled, throwing her pocketbook at Sandor's arm than slapping him when he refused to respond.

Like a statue made out of flesh and blood, Sandor stayed still and lifeless, his body clenching hard unbeknownst to the firecracker flinging words like an out of control machine gun.

Tears filmed against the blue of her eyes, crystallizing them. " Why cant you ever just be nice to me…why cant you ever like what I like or c-care…"

That got a reaction. His head whipped around to hers. " What the hell are you talking about?"

She started this but now she seemed confused, almost bewildered by where she was taking this war of words. He was a shadow over her small frame, looming, demanding response and her defense kicked in overdrive. " It's doesn't matter," she smiled half heartedly, " I like him. He's a good man."

" Man." Sandor scoffed perversely. Pleased he had stoked the fires higher in her eyes. " He's no man. Not yet."

Her nostrils flared out like they had picked up a fowl scent. " More man than you will ever be," she goaded without the forethought for restraint.

She aimed to bruise but her words did not even leave a scratch. She was playing above her ability, a game of cat and mouse or maybe just trying to hurt the first available human that obstructed her from her pure undying love for whatever the prick's name was. None of it mattered to him. He couldn't care. He wasn't allowed the convenience to, but he could see, peeling back a layer of her with his eyes, that she wanted him to.

She was practically clawing at him for a reaction. And the very thought that she was trying so hard settled in his chest and made him want to fight back. Give her a nibble, just a taste and see how she'd like it.

He leaned in closer, expected a whiff of expensive alcohol saturated perfume but instead the air around him smelled of fabric softener, a clean just out of the dryer smell.

" If you were mine," he whispered with a rough edge, " Over my dead body would you be going out like that. And any _real_ man would never let that happen." His gaze on its own accord raked slowly over her body, inching up every curve, touching every patch of bare skin with a tangible effect.

After a second of thick silence, he realized how close he had bent or perhaps she had scooted nearer in his fog of anger. Either way the small space was charged with an unnamable energy he didn't recognize. He was breathing hard from god knows what and she was wetting her lips again, her mouth dropping just the slightest hint open. Fuck.

Her breathing was shallower where his rose and crashed and settled around his lungs, squeezing hard.

He sat motionless, watching her again. Watching her little pink tongue dart out quickly in its nervous habit. " Sandor, I-"

The limo lurched over a bump and both Sandor and Sansa jumped hard in their seats, Sandor's overtly tall frame smacking against the wall and roof of the car.

" What the…" his hand slammed onto the controls at his right, rage making his fingers clumsy. " Are you ok?" he asked with a standard clinical edge, like a dentist after a root canal. Her hand was on her head. He had heard her smack against something but he wasn't sure what.

When she didn't answer he lifted a hand to inspect the possible bruise but stilled halfway. There was no need to touch her. Not now. Clenching his fist he let it fall between them.

" I'm fine," She spoke through a haze of pain. " I hit your shoulder," she chuckled as she winced. At least she was being a good sport about it for once. He'd check later to make sure.

He couldn't afford to enjoy her first real genuine smile as the partition rolled down to slow for his liking. " What the fuck are you doing? Are you a fucking idiot?

The driver didn't answer and when Sandor flicked a gaze into the rearview he saw panic written all over the man's face. The sweat on his brow, over his top lip. The grip he had on the steering wheel was white knuckled in fear. This asshole had a plan and it wasn't going well for him.

It was about to get a whole lot worse. Unclipping the gun in his jacket pocket, Sandor cocked it back and aimed it at him, his words smooth in their exit.

" Pull over. Now."

He heard Sansa beside him gasp in fright. She was going to have to attempt to be strong because he didn't have time to coddle her or explain.

"Pull over now or Ill blow your fucking brains all over the dashboard my friend." He saw the little pricks hand move for something and he wasn't taking any chances with her in the car.

Sandor shot him in the corner of his shoulder. The car swayed onto the sidewalk than steadied as he pulled the wheel hard to the right regaining the control he lost and tightening his hold even more. Blood oozed out black on his dark suit jacket and Sandor could tell he was biting back pain.

He definitely wasn't a rookie when it came to being shot. Too much composure for a first time. " What the fuck man…you shouldn't have fucking done that!"

" I said pull the fuck over."

" Fuck you," the driver spat. " I die you die man. So sit back and enjoy the ride because it's going to be a long one." Unwavering, Sandor changed his target, leveling the barrel of the gun to his head. The blood was pouring out faster, the wound in need of a tourniquet. The blonde's face was beginning to pale. Didn't matter how many shots you survived. Yeah the wound was superficial but in the end a bullet wound was a bullet wound.

His resolve was apparent with the unbending steel in his voice. " If you don't pull over in five seconds I'm going to shoot you in as many places as I can so you live long and die slowly."

The young buck was fast as he drew his 357 magnum out and careened around faster than a ten-year cop but Sandor was faster, firing and hitting the driver right in the back of his head. Blood and brains flew everywhere and Sansa screamed as the limo veered back and forth for a long second before crashing into a parked car and slightly bending sideways.

Good thing they weren't on a major street. The traffic had died down in the late night hours and wherever this joker was taking them he hadn't gotten very far. They were still in New York. Just past the city limits.

The girl was screaming, sobbing and shaking into her hands. They had to get out of there. That was his top priority. Keep her safe and get answers once she was out of harms way.

" Listen to me," he grabbed her by her arms and used the slick leather of the seat to draw her closer. He had not meant to sound brutish but time was of the essence. He was sure someone had witnessed the accident and had already informed the police. He could hear the sirens in the distance, but after all this was New York and that was an every day accompaniment.

She was shaking her head no when he hadn't even said a damn thing yet. " We need to get out of here. You need to do what I say, do you understand?

She peeked a look at the dead driver, his head was bent back awkwardly, his mouth gaped open like a muted scream was coming from his mouth and his eyes were wide, bulged in shock. The shit had it coming to him. He just wished he could have tortured him a little more before ending his life.

" Look at me," he ordered now, shaking her body and her mind back into the present. " The cops are going to be here any minute and we need to get out of here and hidden before they come sniffing around. Ok?"

Her nod was mechanical like pressing a button or swiping a credit card through. He wasn't sure she even knew what was really going on here.

He closed his eyes, seeking patience that he always short on." Someone wants us dead. Or as hostages. I need to find out."

" Us?" her blue eyes glistened up at him. She was so young, so innocent still.

" Yes…to get to your father and mother. I need to get you to a safe place," his hands squeezed harder in his meaning. " Don't fight me on his, Sansa."

She breathed out a long exhale, tears cascaded down her cheeks but she was beginning to come together, finally shaking her head and the ghosts away that seemed to be haunting her. " Ok."

He wasn't sure he trusted her. She fought him tooth and nail in the smallest most inconsequential matters but he didn't have time to dissect her intentions. " Let's go." He laid out his hand for her to take and she took it easily, cupping her hand into his and holding on tightly as if her life depended on it. Which it did.

For the first time that night Sansa actually listened to him. Sandor glanced around at his surroundings than back at the little red headed chirper. That was definitely a plus they needed.


	2. Part 2

A CONSTANT THROB

PART-II

The motel clerk appraised him again for the fifth time in the last ten minutes. His skepticism an unfailing reminder of the scars he bore on the right side of his face. Over the years some people called the scars mangled flesh, others burn marks, he was okay with just saying he looked fucked up. Cause he did.

The scars never bothered him. In some perverse irony they worked to his advantage. With the jobs he was given to do, his height, breath, offered assistance where words failed. The scars added an edge, tipping the scales in his favor. A gun said a lot, but sometimes, if he wasn't in the mood to clean up a mess all he had to do was flash the right side of his face, let the victim's imagination take over and the job was practically done for him.

" One room?" the guy cleared his throat, trying to hard to sound calm and collected. Like he wasn't affected by the hulking presence in front of him. Sandor would have let the moment linger, let this pubescent hick squirm and enjoy the pleasure, but he didn't have time.

" Yeah one." He rushed out, gesturing for the room key. They were about three hours outside of the city in a town called Arietta. Low population, low traffic. Undetectable hopefully.

The clerk glanced at Sansa who was standing almost completely behind him.

His stare tossed back and forth between him and her. He was probably wondering what a monster like him was doing with a girl like her.

The idea made him want to laugh. He could feel the weight of her presence through his jacket. She wasn't touching him but she was close enough where the feel of her was a touch. If that made any fucking sense.

They hadn't spoken the whole three hours driving. Mainly because she was pissed he had hotwired a pickup truck to get them on the road and out of the city to some kind of safety.

She didn't like the idea of stealing. She even suggested leaving a note and Sandor never laughed so fucking hard in his life.

Of course that didn't go over well with the princess and before someone could say were fucked they were screaming at each other in the middle of an alley at midnight.

She was being a hard ass, which wasn't something he was willing to deal with considering the present situation and the laundry list of torture that could be done to them if they didn't escape.

So he went off on her. Backed her up deep into the alley against some wall and told it to her straight. Told her what the driver would have done to her if his plan had pulled through and what other thugs who were still gunning after her were going to do once they got their hands on her little untainted body.

She hadn't said a word since.

He guessed he should feel something about that but he didn't. Not right now. He was doing his job-keeping her alive. Fuck it if she was in a mood because he didn't hold her feelings in his hands like a fucking Faberge egg.

" Here." The boy dropped the card in Sandor's large open palm and he snatched it while grabbing her hand from behind without so much as even looking her way. He could feel the eyes of the nosy clerk still on his back. Fucking small towns. Never mind their own goddamn business. Have nothing better to do.

She was dead weight in his grip, dragging her to the room like a dog that had gone limp at his side. He knew he was moving ata rapid speed but they needed a good night of sleep before they went on the road all day. Everything was compromised as far as he was concerned. Phones, emails, he'd call on the unknown motel number and take his chances someone would pick up.

The lock clicked green on the first try and he rushed inside shutting to door as he scanned the area. One bed, one drawer, a shower and a phone. Good.

" Take a shower. I have a call to make," his words came out like an order again. He wasn't purposely being a dick, but he was used to being in charge and easy compliance from the men under him. When he finished scanning the room he gave her a once over, taking in her tired form but what he mostly noticed and tried to ignore was the displeased nature splayed across her features.

It was the first time he had spoken to her since he yelled at her in the alley and he could only guess that she was expecting some sort of an apology.

" I'm fine. Make your call." She sat on the bed, small as a mouse, her fingers drifting over the colored quilt.

" That wasn't a suggestion. Take a shower." He undid the button of his jacket and ripped off the coat. The coat, the whole damn suit must have shrunk because he was itching to get out of the constricting fabric. They were definitely going to have to hit a Wal-Mart or something.

She stayed in her place, waiting on him like they had all the time in the world. " I know you need to find out what's going on. I'm not an idiot. My dad used to make calls in front of me all the time. It didn't matter. I'm not going to know what you're talking about."

He unbuttoned the rest of this buttons his shirt falling loose at his sides. He noticed her eyes drift down faintly before coming back up to reach his no nonsense glare. Did he pick the wrong fucking weeks to quit smoking or what.

" I'm not your father girl. I don't care if you sit in the damn tub with your clothes on for the next hour and pout like a damn toddler. I want you out of the room."

She stood. The fire in her breathing for life. " I'm not your daughter!"

Guess she hadn't learned anything from the alley. " And last time I checked you're not my wife either so stop breaking my fucking balls and cooperate."

Her next words didn't have the chance to leave. Surprise rode across her features and her mouth clamped up so fast he could have blinked hard and missed the whole thing if he wasn't paying so close attention to her reaction.

She decided on saying nothing. Testing the waters with her silence. She should have realized by now that he wasn't Joff or any other college boy asshole who doted and fawned like a fucking pussy.

They were both stuck here. Stuck being the operative word. " Good. Now move."

She grabbed her purse and her coat, moving as far away from him as she passed to get to the bathroom. " You're a dick," she spat out before slamming the door shut.

" You're a fucking brat." He replied under his breath, scratching at the naked skin of his chest. " And this dick is trying to keep you alive."

Silence.

Pulling a hand through his hair, he sat on the edge of the bed and dialed the only number he knew by heart, the one number that hadn't changed in the eight years he had been under the Stark services.

The phone rang. It was close to four in the morning, but Ned was a light sleeper. Years in this business will do that to you.

On the sixth ring a groggy voice picked up. " Hello?"

" Yeah its me. Clegane. I got Sansa with me."

A sigh of relief escaped on the other end. Some of the panic ebbed away. He could hear Catelyn near him as watery sighs of release echoed through the phone." Thank God. We've been sitting by the phones wondering. I fell asleep at my desk. How is she? Is she ok?"

" She's fine Ned. Just rattled." He didn't feel the need to explain further. It was common knowledge that Sandor and her butted heads so Ned didn't need a blow by blow on how aggravating this situation was for the both of them. " Who do you think did this?"

" No clue yet. I have my brother and Jory out looking for answers. We just made a deal with the Lannisters to expand our territory. Tywin was happy with the deal, but his daughter who was supposed to be at the meeting never showed. She has a reputation for being a wild card but the Lannisters aren't known for violence. They're smart business people. I wouldn't do business with them otherwise."

Sandor listened, not necessarily buying the legitimate angle. " Everyone has their skeletons, Sir."

" I know…I know." His bosse's voice lost in thought. " Skeletons and vices."

" Were going to lay low till than. I'm going to take her to the safe house we talked about. You know the place. I'll call the next time I can, don't try and contact me."

" Ok, sounds good Clegane." Ned hesitated, emotion thick like an apple lodged in his throat. " Take care of her will you. Make sure nothing happens to my girl."

Sandor nodded to the emptiness in the room. " That's my job, sir." Than hung up. Yeah he'd take care of her. If they didn't kill each other first.

~8~

The scalding hot water was heaven to his stiff bones; the heat imperative for his locked up joints to uncramp from the long car ride. With a quick swipe of the white motel towel he dried himself, scowling at the thought of having to put those damn clothes on again. He wasn't a suit and tie kind of guy. He had only done so for the date he was on. Jory and BenJen had convinced him to suit up, impress the lady because that's what ladies liked.

He wasn't much for caring what a women liked except maybe in the bedroom, but he was getting tired of one night stands and hook ups that never led anywhere. The blame was on him. He didn't try because, well, no woman had every given him a reason too. Most of them were so in love with themselves they didn't need him for anything more than praise and worship. And he wasn't one to get on his knees unless it was in between a woman's legs.

The chick he had been on a date with seemed pretty laid back from what he could tell, but how much could he really know about a woman in two hours? Her heavy flirting and ample cleavage was a sledge hammer over the head that she wanted to get laid and he was more than willing to comply but getting laid was easy. It was everything else, all the attached strings that came along with it that he was trying to figure out if he wanted.

What the hell was her name again? Olga…it was something odd like that. Olympia? Fuck if he knew.

He'd call when this mess was over with that was for sure. Maybe she wasn't the future Mrs. Clegane but when he pictured her smooth tan skin and her exotic dark bedroom eyes he wasn't really much worried about that minor detail.

Deciding on just wearing his dress pants to bed, Sandor pushed open the bathroom door and welcomed the cool air that freshly hit his newly scrubbed body. The room was dark save for the light behind him so he kept it on and left only a creak open for him to maneuver around without breaking a foot. The room was small as is and he was a big lout.

His eyes adjusted quickly to the blackness, taking in her small silhouette in the bed. She was on her side, her back to him.

That was a good a sign as any. He would have gotten two rooms but he wasn't going to waste the cash. The inconvenience and awkwardness would have to be suffered through until they got to the cabin. He didn't want to ask for a cot at the desk to raise suspicion from an already suspicious kid.

Funny she never complained about having to share a bed and here he thought that was going to be the big argument.

The weight of his body dipped the mattress and Sandor tried hard to be slow and graceful as he scooted under the covers and laid back on his pillow, punching the flat useless thing to fit comfortably under his head. If the little princess was sleeping he counted himself fortunate for once. She had had a long night so odds were she was passed out and dreaming.

He heard her congested breaths shorten than stop altogether. He wasn't sure if that was a sign she was dead to the world or now waking from his intrusion.

Maybe he should start over. Apologize. This couldn't be easy for a fragile thing like her. Considering the life and death situation they were in she was handling the whole thing like a champ. He almost chuckled again thinking about her exasperation at the injustice of not leaving a note for the guy with the pickup truck. She really was naïve and innocent, nothing at all like the dark ugly world around her. How was it possible that she could be in this world and not really of it?

Clearing his throat Sandor stared at the ceiling, regretting his next words but compelled to set things right before they hit the road tomorrow. " I'm sorry Sansa."

Nothing but the hum of the air conditioner filled the room. He was fine with her not hearing him but he had a keen impression she did. Her body was almost too still, the tension radiating from her like a flare on a deserted island. So he continued unwilling. " I shouldn't have yelled and I apologize if I scared you in some way."

Her mouth was moving, he could hear the soft sweep of tongue and lips in the midst of the quiet. She was probably contemplating what to say.

" Apology accepted." There was a smile in her voice and a part of him smiled back inside. The other part wanted to throttle her, but he left well enough alone, shimming deeper into his pillow and settling on his side, facing her. His hand fell between them as he relaxed in his spot, his eyes already fluttering shut.

Than he felt the mattress dip and bounce and knew, just knew, she had turned to him. For fuck's sake. He really wasn't one to apologize so if she expected more groveling or begging her night was about to extend infinitely.

If Jory could see this he would break his nuts for the rest of his life.

"Thank you," her small voice carried out, all self- righteousness vanished from her bare tone.

" You're welcome," he said quickly, watching her openly in the dark and hating how he couldn't close his eyes now if his fucking life depended on it.

She was still peeking her little boo beep eyes straight at him and the picture of her made something kick in his gut; warmth rush heavy and spread inside him.

Her lips were lush and swollen from so much crying and he fisted the covers between them to keep his hand busy.

He could smell the shampoo in her hair and the distinct fresh laundry fragrance that was innately hers. " I wasn't trying to get under your skin girl. I'm just trying to keep you safe," he admitted raw.

The stillness grew to awareness that hummed alive in between them.

" I know," she admitted shyly, her eyes downcast in thought. " I'm sorry too."

Sandor wasn't prepared for an apology back and tried to sit on the urge to ride her a little about it. "So next time just do what I say and everything will go more smoothly." The temptation to tuck a stray hair that had fallen on her cheek itched at his palm. He lifted his hand to give in to the compulsion but felt her body stiffen as she soaked in his words.

Her eyes met his but the shy softness that he was beginning to see and like dissolved. "Why do you have to say it like that? You make it seem like I'm some disobedient poodle you need to housetrain."

His hand that was stuck in mid- air gathered and fell in an angry fist on the bed.  
" That's not what I'm trying to say," he voiced, a notch of defensiveness evident.

Sansa propped up on her elbow, her hair falling around her in out of control waves. He'd never seen it like that before since she always made sure to straighten it into submission. "All you see me as is some spoiled brat who always gets her way."

Closing his eyes he rubbed his temple for the tenth time that night. "I never said that."

" Yeah, " she huffed out indignantly, "that's why every chance you get you call me princ-"

" Princess." He finished the word with a sharp bitter growl. "Stop acting like one and I won't call you that."

Speaking through gritted teeth he knew she was on the precipice of punching him in the face. " I don't act like one. You 're just …you just feel the need to pick on each and every little fucking thing I do."

On his elbow now as well he mocked in a provoking manner, "You kiss your father with that mouth?"

If he hit his mark she didn't show it. " You're one to talk. You kiss your girlfriends-"

" The girls I'm with like my filthy mouth. They wouldn't have it any other way" he interrupted, smug as the asshole she was making him out to be in her head.

" You're sickening."

The harsh bark rumbling like a thunderstorm from his throat had the opposite effect of her intentions." If you got that stick out of your ass this might not be as bad as you're making it."

She was leaning into him now, her body language held that same elicit dare like in the limo. A begging element tinged the soft vibrato of her words. " And what if I did…would you be nicer…" He could see the slit of her milky cleavage pouring out from the black tank top. The rosy tips of her nipples almost visible if a person was really looking which, enslaved but willing, he was.

He wasn't expecting the calmness. The honey sensuality that dripped from her mouth and against him and his iron guard. He swallowed hard. " Go to bed Sansa." He tried to threaten but for the first time in his life he came up short. There was a quiver to him, one he couldn't control like a fever had settled into his skin.

" Sandor-"

" Go to bed." He roared lowly, the fierceness directed solely at himself. He swung around to the other side and as far away from her as he could possibly be on the queen size bed. The subject was closed whether she was ready for it to be or not.

After a few minutes of boring a hole into his back with her steady glare he felt the bed dent in until she was back into her original position. He should have just kept his fucking mouth shut and all this could have been avoided.

Than her small tiny bird of a voice broke through the cumbersome silence. Her words smaller than her now. " That's what I thought…" There was a moment of hesitation and thought until she concluded sorrowfully, "Sorry you're here with me….Sorry I'm not Arya."


	3. Part 3

A CONSTANT THROB

PART 111

" This is it?"

He glanced towards the passenger seat, but didn't have the patience to decipher if she was being sarcastic or truly surprised by the view in front of her. His eyes were gritty, burning from lack of sleep, his back was on fire, and they had gotten stuck in bumper to bumper traffic halfway into their drive.

Ravena, New York was the perfect out of town cover up for the kind of hideaway they needed. The cabin was not a cabin at all. No dingy logs stacked one over the other, but beautiful furnished oak, shiny, polished, and glowing from the roof to the foundation. Two floors, two master bedrooms, a bathroom for each of them, and a lavished living room with a fireplace to finish off the cozy ski lodge look.

The place used to be a dump growing up. Him and his dad along with his estranged brother used to come up here every fall to hunt. As long as it had four walls and a toilet to piss the three men considered themselves at home. So of course the upkeep was ignored and the cabin depreciated fast. When his dad passed away he gave Sandor the cabin in his will. He still wasn't sure if the joke was on him or if his dad really meant for his son to have this as a last parting sentiment, to keep the family together somehow.

He used his time off from the Starks to come up and work on it. Took his time, since he had a specific picture of how he wanted each room to appear, masculine but comfy, accommodating for every kind of individual. A few times he brought some of the boys up and they'd have a guys weekend, playing poker, doing some hunting and finishing, drinking beers, escaping the mundane everyday bullshit.

He hadn't come up since last fall. The place needed a good dusting and he had to turn the gas on to get the hot water running, but other than some small kinks this was paradise next to his apartment at home or the last twenty- four hours.

He hadn't answered her and he decided to just let the quiet between them be their way of communicating right now. They hadn't really forged a truce, but he couldn't stop thinking about what she said last night before she fell asleep. The words nagged at his corner of his brain like a gnat that wouldn't stop buzzing for attention.

Whatever it meant he didn't want to be the one to encourage the tumultuous downhill cycle between them. So he gave her the space she needed this morning when she got up first to dress in the bathroom and ate breakfast alone downstairs in the small guest dining area.

The car ride had been as quiet as a graveyard but the tension had bled off a little. Mainly he didn't speak unless speaking was absolutely necessary. Phrases like " Were stopping for gas," or " I need to take a leak," were about as close to a conversation as they had since their blow up last night. He didn't know what was up her ass or where she got this idea he liked Arya better. Sure Arya and him talked and joked more but that was because Arya made an effort to treat him like more than just a goddamn butler. To her he was a friend.

Sandor had always been kind to Sansa, always tried to be pleasant and cordial. She was the one who started giving him the cold shoulder a couple of years ago when out of nowhere she came to the conclusion she was too elite for a blue collar bloke like himself.

If his silence was all she wanted from him to be happy than that she could have that without argument. He was tired of the fighting. That wore him down more than all the other factors in these shitty circumstances combined.

Plopping the first of the plastic bags down on the large wood kitchen table, Sandor twisted the bulb on the ceiling fan tightly than flicked on the light with his index finger. The light turned on though dimmer than it should be. Good thing he had picked up a few bulbs in Wal-Mart. Along with many other necessities they were going to be using over the course of their stay.

He honestly couldn't guess how long they were going to be hauled up here. Could be a day or a few weeks, his guess was as good as any. As long as Sansa was in the clear when all was said and done. Until than this was their home, their safe haven….Sandor glanced out the big bay windows of the living room and watched as the little chirper balanced more bags in her hand than she could carry. Hopefully by the end of this she wouldn't see this as her prison and him the warden.

_Sorry I'm not Arya_.

He backed away so she couldn't see him peering out at her and went to check the rest of the cabin. Every room seemed to be in readied shape, which was a plus after the crappy motel room. He was dying for another hot shower, a nap and a piping hot meal in his stomach. Than he'd feel himself again and make another call to Ned, see if there were any leads.

Standing in the middle of the living room he watched as Sansa took all the supplies out of their bags and organized them according to categories. Canned foods together, refrigerated perishables in another pile, and clothes and bathroom necessities in a completely separate area on the table.

Clearing the gravely content from his throat, Sandor approached with caution. Not wanting to scare or alarm her. " The hot water should be up and running soon if you want to take a shower."

Her shoulders did a tiny jump before she settled her hands on the edge of the counter. He wasn't sure if she was mad he had interrupted or was preparing herself for another round between them. " Thanks," she replied and continued her work.

He stayed still, thinking maybe on the off chance she'd say something, but no. She was going to play hardball with him all the way. God he wanted to put his head through the sheet rock. With no response as his sole answer he gave up and headed towards the stairs. He'd clean up and test the waters later.

Taking two steps at a time he glanced her way again into the open kitchen and stalled, watching her pick up a box of lemon ices in her hand and flip the box over and over as if she was holding some familiar puzzle piece she hadn't known was missing until it was in her hands.

Lemon ices had always been her favorite when she was younger. She used to go bonkers over the damn things so when he passed them in the frozen isle he took the chance she still had a thing for them. He wasn't sure from the scrunched up look on her face if he had guessed right or not but he was too fatigued to care at the moment.

Gripping the banister he breathed out a breath that he probably had been holding since the limo ride. His insides unclenched and his chest unwound. Now he could concentrate and not worry about safety at least. They were home. His home, his safe place and as long as they were here, everything would be okay. And, also, if he kept his mouth shut.

~8~

Fresh clothes and a good shower could do wonders at altering a person's mood. The smell of bacon floated up to his room, the aroma making his stomach growl like a noisy squirrel was going nuts for escape.

To say he was starving was a colossal understatement. For a man his size, skipping a meal was like partaking in a forty day fast. But with time constraints and looking over his shoulder for the next bullet to hit, feeding himself wasn't exactly a top priority. Sandor had inhaled a stale donut as one of the motel employee's was cleaning up the complimentary breakfast, but other than the cardboard tasting pastry he hadn't wanted to waste precious road time on food.

" Dinner's ready." He heard Sansa shout from the kitchen. She could almost sound happy from the short distance of one level between them.

He held the phone to his chest as he answered, " Be down in a second," than continued to dial. He decided to make the call before he ate. Maybe he'd have some good news for the girl. He wasn't the kind of man who could sit down and relax unless a job was good and done. This wasn't a job he had predicted he'd ever be in but these unforeseen tasks were guarantees in the fine print of things. 

The phone rang three times before someone picked up. "Yeah?" came the voice on the other end, resonating bored and callous.

" Theon, put Ned on the phone."

He heard the boy murmur something nervously before putting him on hold, which wasn't unusual because the young scraper always acted that way around him.

Jon had told Theon of the time when Sandor had been jumped by four men outside a bar in downtown New York. About how he had killed all four of the men and dumped their bodies in four separate places so the cops could never find them. Sandor wasn't particularly happy the story had reached any of the young boy's ears. He had only told Robb on a fishing trip he had went on with him, Ned and Robert. And that was after asking his father's permission. But being teenage boys they saw violence in a glamorizing light, like some Hollywood film, which couldn't be farther from the truth.

" Sandor…everything ok?" Ned asked doing a piss poor job of hiding his anxiousness, which was completely unlike him.

" Good boss. Everything is fine. We're at my cabin, in Ravena …anything come out on your end?"

" Jory was out all night…the driver wasn't a Lannister man, but Tyrion, Tywin's youngest, has been missing for a little over forty eight hours now."

Stroking the scruff of his beard, Sandor paused. " He's not part of his father's business. Tywin made sure of that."

" True," his boss agreed easily, " but Tyrion has always wanted to be part of it. Since he was old enough to tie his shoes. So Tywin placated him, giving him odd jobs and such to keep him off his father's back."

Sandor nodded his head, " Ok, but what does any of this have to do with your daughter?"

" Don't know yet. But there could be a connection somewhere down the line that Tywin is trying to cover up. I have as many men as I can out there before the lead runs cold." Sandor could picture the ice in Ned Stark's eyes as he thought about the harm these men had tried to do to his daughter.

" Wish I was there to help." Sandor gruffly admitted. He hated being trapped with no options. He lived for these kinds of hunts.

" Me too my friend but if it had to be anyone I'd rather you be with Sansa. I don't trust many people these days." His boss wasn't one to casually throw out compliments. He was a man of few words and fewer friends.

The weight of what he said sunk in deep. " Thank you, Sir."

" Call before you retire tonight. I might have something."

" Will do." Sandor complied eagerly. Hopefully the Stark men were on to something and not just chasing their tails and wasting precious time. Waste angered him. If he were there he'd stop at nothing, wouldn't eat, sleep, or breathe until he had who ordered the hit in his grip and made them suffer.

Thoroughly.

~8~

Sansa had made breakfast food for dinner. All the dishes were steaming hot, delectable in appearance, like something out of a gourmet cooking magazine. Sandor was practically drooling in his lap. It took all his restraint not to knock over his chair pile the food on his plate and dig in.

" I wasn't sure how you liked your eggs so I just made them scrambled with some cheese. I hope that's ok." Sansa said, busy placing the last plate of food onto the table, links of juicy breakfast sausage. The cabin never smelled so good.

She went to turn off the stove and gather the pots and pans in the sink. He used the unguarded second to study her. There was a slight wobble in her stance, dark smudges under her eyes, and her usual pale skin was an unhealthy ghostly white. The messy bun she had haphazardly made in the midst of cooking was about to fall out, pieces of hair clinging to her perspired neck.

His hunger was somewhat replaced by annoyance. He wasn't at all pleased with the shell of the fiery girl that was standing only two feet away. She needed rest, that was a certainty even she couldn't argue, but if the words came shooting out of his mouth she would likely do the opposite and stay up all night just to spite him. He would snicker at her unbending stubbornness if he weren't so agitated.

Opening up a window for some fresh air to come through, Sandor shrugged his shoulders and answered, " Scrambled eggs are fine," than pulled a chair out for her to sit down on. If she thought she was skipping another meal she had another thing coming to her.

Taking little heaps of each varied assortment of food, his plate was soon covered and he dug in greedily with a bountiful fork full. The food was in his mouth and being chewed when he noticed Sansa watching him, her plate still empty. He eyed her from across him than her plate, " You need to eat."

Her jaw set defiantly at his words and he corrected himself first before he gave her the opportunity to do so." Please. Eat."

As if not comprehending what he had said, her brow dipped and she studied the food than lifted her dull tired eyes to him. " I'm not very hungry. Making all of this sort of made me full."

He wasn't buying it. " Still you need to eat."

" I'm not hungry," she answered in step with his question. " Just tired."

" The water's running hot. Go take a shower and I'll clean up down here," he offered, hoping to put her mind at ease. " I'll make you a plate for after."

She sighed heavily, nodding as if agreeing with him than rubbed her eyes, her hands washing over her face, a mountain of exhaustion hitting her like a bulldozer. " Okay…listen I-I, um…I never thanked you for-"

" Sansa." He hated when people did this.

" No please let me finish," than she paused, waiting for him to protest but when he didn't she stood and continued, fiddling with the paper napkin on the table.

" Thank you for saving my life. If it weren't for you I would be dead now or in some basement tied up or something… I know I haven't been very cooperative and I'm sorry. I just wished…"

He had stopped eating, waiting.

Something about the way he was staring at her made her flush, made her doubt and stammer off course from her goal of where her words were taking her. " I know it doesn't make sense. You can't change the past or anything… I-I just wish I wasn't..."

The scrap of his chair screeched loudly in the otherwise peaceful room as he came to stand in front of where she was. Stop the torture of watching her pull for words that refused to come out.

He said nothing, wanting to fill the gap of silence but thinking better of it to let her get what she needed to get out.

He wasn't a talker and he usually screwed problems up worse when he did.

The slant of her doubting doe eyes was mesmerizing, crystal ice blue and too perfect to be real. She was giving him a half frown, half smile and he was trapped by who he was and shackled to what he couldn't do. If she were any other woman… standing so close to him like this…

What felt like a whisper's length of distance.

Instincts were a killer. A hot reminder of a cold shower he would be taking later.

He would like to wipe away that ambiguous crook off her mouth. He would kiss her slow and hard until she couldn't remember her name and her wits were jelly. His eyes drifted down to her mouth again…or he'd bring her upstairs, remedy her in a way that didn't involve food or showers, just his bed, her willing body and his tongue.

But she wasn't just any woman…

" Sandor…I….thank you…"

" You just wished what?" he heard his mouth move. His brain stuffy.

She was a hellcat when it came to busting his chops so he wanted her to finish. She never backed down from him in the past, what was stopping her now when he was actually being polite and approachable for once.

" I just wish," she fiddled with her hands, her long fingers squeezing against one another, turning red, " that I could call Joff after dinner. He must be worried and I don't want him to be going crazy and everything."

She was lying. That was easy enough to tell because she was horrible at the second nature instinct that was a requirement in most scenarios for him. But why was she lying was what he was itching to know.

He didn't want to come across like a hound that had picked up the scent of blood, but this walking on eggshells bullshit was mind numbingly tedious. This wasn't a damn therapy session and sparing feelings only led to a weak soft spinned person. Sansa was a big girl and she was tough. Tougher than she gave herself credit for. The delicate country club society girl wasn't her. No matter how hard she tried to change, her innate manual couldn't be altered no matter how much fake nails and hairspray she used.

" You just wished I didn't like Arya better, is that what you were going to say?"

There was no taunt or hitch in his question that she could use against him, but than again, anger was rarely logical. Her face went taut; her features closing off like a flower that was in mid bloom and now withering. " That's not what I was going to say."

" Than why did you say it last night?"

She wasn't expecting that. " I didn't mean it that way. I was tired…it doesn't matter what I said. You misunderstood…as usual."

She stepped to back away but he grabbed her elbow, her predictability working expertly to his advantage. " I didn't misunderstand shit. Why did you say it?"

" I-I," her nervous habit kicked in on time and she was wetting her lips with that tiny pink tongue of hers, " I only meant…well with Arya you are different…you-"

" Different?" he questioned disbelieving. The disbelief quickly overwhelmed by hinted amusement. His hands wrapped around her arm tighter, his fingers almost touching, her arm being so small. " Sounds like your jealous."

Insulted, she gritted her teeth, stung by the accusation. Women would forever be dodging the responsibility of that specific emotion. She tried lukewarmly to break from his grasp, but when he wasn't having it she stomped her foot. "I am _not_ jealous. You're an asshole."

" Ok. I'm an asshole. But that doesn't change the fact that you're jealous." He tugged her a scant of an inch closer and watched as her eyes widened in fear than turned to slits of rage, a kaleidoscope of emotions unfolding right before him.

" Jealous." she dogged, without a question in her. " You're ridiculous. What does it matter?" She was shaking now. Where he couldn't tell, but the tremors rose from her skin and against his, goose bumps spreading across her flesh like hives. "You don't care about anyone. Right? No one. So don't stand there and presume to know me or pretend to care when all you're really trying to do is hurt me."

An endless wave of uninhibited awareness broke in the room. Ready to swallow and annihilate. He wanted nothing more than to fucking strangle her.

Glowering like a zealous Rottweiler who just zeroed in on his next meal, Sandor's eyes latched on to her mouth as he somehow got the words out. "You don't know shit about who I am or who I care about girl. I do know that college has turned you into a fucking spoiled brat."

" At least I'm not a monster like you."

" If you saw me as a monster than you would be smart enough not to poke at me for a fight every chance you got." He let go of her with a disgusted fling. " Guess college didn't make you too bright either."

" Fuck you," she whispered the shake was in her voice now, her body eerily closed off.

He leaned in toward her with a glint in his eyes that was battle ready. " No thanks. You're not my type."

Clearing her throat, she bent her head fully, her hair a wall to his penetrating stare. " Right..." she shook her head, " let me know when I can call Joffrey. Like I said I'm not hungry anyways." And she walked away, but not before Sandor could see the trace of a tear down her cheek.

" Sansa." But at the sound of her name she ran the rest of the way up, slamming the door of the bathroom with an angry thud.

Fucking great. He had just sunk from a piece of shit to a first grade asshole. What happened to keeping his mouth shut and giving her the space she needed? So he was a monster in her eyes. He had always wondered so, but hearing her say it pissed him off beyond comprehension.

So much for their " truce."

His eyes roamed over the array of food but the pit in his stomach ate away at whatever hunger was there. He was tempted to throw the whole damn thing against the wall, clear the table and take his gun out to find something to kill and calm his nerves.

Her footsteps stomping out of the bathroom and into the other guest bedroom pushed at his temper. Sandor was not going to spend the whole time here caged like a fucking rat in a laboratory. Sansa needed to be put in her place; she needed to hear the truth just like he needed to know what the hell was going on in that head of hers.

Without a second to think it over Sandor sped for the stairs, taking them two at a time.

This bullshit miscommunication ended tonight. Whether she was ready for it or not.


	4. Part 4

A CONSTANT THROB

PART 1V

The pounding in his head could only be outmatched by the thundering of his fist hitting the door. Sandor was a scary man without having to try, so this, here, was sinking low on the totem pole of scumbag moves. But the girl was thick skulled with her head so far up her butt she couldn't tell that real danger could be at their doorstep at any minute or the fact that he was, despite he continual fuck ups, **TRYING**. She had to learn the hard way and he was the man for the job whether he volunteered or not.

" Open the damn door." He commanded harsh but low, drawing in the rattle of his voice. " I'm not moving until we talk. Now. This isn't up for fucking negotiation."

The longer he heard nothing the more his rage escalated. Did she think this was a joke? That he was a fucking joke? He took a few steps back and was just about to put his shoulder into the middle of the door, wrecking his own work in one single thud, when a slight creak followed by light spilling into the hallway halted him in place.

Without caution or any sort of preliminary warning he shoved the rest of the door away with a kick of his boot than threw it closed in one fast and blinding movement.

Sansa was standing on the other side of the room, staring at him, clutching a pillow from the bed to her chest. Slamming the door made her recoil a clumsy, frightened step back and Sandor wanted to grin at her open fear of him. But this was not going to help matters if all he did was scare her. He had to fucking cool himself and come across somewhat calm or he'd be spending the rest of the time checking every window to make sure she didn't leap out and runaway.

" We're gonna talk girl," he introduced the obvious with a scratchy seriousness in his tone.

He stood motionless opposite her, seeming patient for a response when all she did was squirm.

At first.

" I don't want to talk." Her nose was red and runny, her voice hoarse. Her hair was down in a mess of red wild waves tangled together, but her eyes shone bright. A vivid pulse against the dead nearly blackened room. She was too beautiful. " I don't have anything to say to you. Why cant you just leave me alone."

Her protests flowed out factually, more serene than her appearance. That was a good sign…he thought anyways. " If we don't talk we're just going to keep doing this back and forth shit and I don't want that. Don't think you do either."

"I don't care about you or what you think." She exclaimed deathly quiet. She might as well have been throwing a knife, she aimed to injure with each word. Typically he'd be entertained by the effort she took to get under his skin, but he couldn't do that with her. She wasn't just anybody in his piece of shit world.

"You don't care…that's fine, but there's no reason we can't be civil and make the best of this." Tentatively his steps brought him closer as he spoke, the bed now the only barrier between them.

" I-I just want you to stop treating me like I'm a child. I'm almost nineteen…cant you see I don't need a babysitter. I can take care of myself. I'm not some incompetent moron like half the women you hang out with."

There was a loaded statement if he ever heard one. He wasn't going to even touch on the last part since he was pretty sure she had no clue what she was talking about. Sandor never brought women home. It was one of his rules. They either went to her place or got a hotel. Either way, he really couldn't grumble or gripe now that she was actually voicing what was in that pretty little head of hers.

The direct gaze he planted on her was not up for interpretation. Sandor answered as delicately as her frazzled demeanor could handle. The severity unable to be misread as he explained, " I don't see you as a child. Don't think any man could at this point. But you're in danger and I'm here to keep you safe. Would you rather be doing this on your own?"

The tiny imperceptible shake of her head was a sign of surrender that had Sandor's tense frame relaxing an inch. " I know I haven't made this easy on you."

With the back of her hand she wiped the moisture under her nose. Still sniffling she asked almost bashful now," Why do you always give me a hard time?"

He couldn't think of much besides how adorable she was, but he ignored that, seemed he was destined to ignore many a things when it came to her." I could say the same to you," he gave a half hearted smile. " You never let up girl. Not an inch."

" Yeah …I know…I know I'm not easy like…like my sister...but that's just not who I am…"

" Stop." The one word bounced between them than the air grew thick again.

" No you wanted to talk about it. So let's talk about it…you're going to tell me I'm wrong? That you don't like Arya more, that she's not your favorite and all?" She edged around the bed until her knee bumped against the corner. Her hands tugged the pillow harder to her, like a shield from combat.

Did she really think he was going to hurt her, that he'd stoop that low.

He sat on the instinct to erase the small space between them and touch her.

" Arya is Arya. Can't really compare the two of you against each other. Too different. She's difficult in her own ways …she just never let up wanting to be my friend."

" But I didn't." The pillow dropped to her side along with her arms.

" Didn't you." He snickered dryly.

" No. With her it just seems like you enjoy her company…it's easy. You make sense as friends and with me…I don't know…"she groaned aggravated with her failed attempts at explaining herself.

She was skirting the issue and he hated to be the one to drop the bomb but there was no choice in the matter, better to get everything in the clear. " Is that what you meant by the other night…you think I favor Arya and that's why you said I wished she was here instead of you…"

The timber of his rough voice was like the crackling of a burgeoning fire. She seemed under some spell he wasn't aware he had cast. Her eyes drifted shut than opened. The past twenty -four hours was finally catching up on her. "I-I…"

" Here, sit down." He clasped a hand onto her elbow and drew her to the bed, not really giving her an option even though he wanted her to think he did.

He told himself he had only touched her because she looked like she was about to faint and he wouldn't have that on his conscience. Cramped against his own skin, Sandor balked with the impulse to flee. She was too close. She still smelled too good. " I'll get you some water."

" No." She shot out, latching a hand to his forearm and clinging. " You don't have to leave." She corrected when she saw the question in his face, " Unless you want to."

Remaining rigid he stared openly, like a goddamn voyeur, as a million very contradicting emotions warred for room. Her lips puckered out but not before she licked them into a slick open pout. " You're right…about what you said."

Admitting someone was right wasn't easy. Didn't matter how old or young you were. It demanded a kind of strength that not many people really possessed. He wanted her to know that but he wasn't certain how to say it without sounding patronizing. Instead he rested a hand on her arm, cupping the exposed flesh there. She was warm like he knew she would be. Warm and soft. A curtain of her hair blocked half her face from his view and he couldn't have that. He pushed the silky locks over her shoulder, the feel velvet, a never experienced sensation slowly climbed within him for release.

Sansa faced him more fully, her mind set and unable to be derailed. " I did think you favored her. A-and I was, partly, well, mostly jealous that you liked her more. I could never be enough it seemed no matter what I did-"

" No-"

" But it mostly is my fault. I was stupid and dumb. I thought things that could never be…" her stare traveled up his face, trailing his eyes for a reaction. She was staring so intently, so closely he was tied to that look and what meaning it could bring.

" Sansa…"

" I was in love with you Sandor."

He locked up. Joints, bones, blood flow, seized from working. His words almost came out as a threat as he stated low, " You don't know what you're saying girl."

" It's true. I was so crazy in love with you I couldn't see straight. All I thought about was you. It wasn't your fault you saw me as a little girl. I was. But I don't know …love can make you feel and do crazy things…you were everything to me than. From the minute I laid eyes on you till…well, till I left for school."

When he didn't jump in or shake his head in understanding he saw nervousness dance at the edge of her new found liberation. Somewhere this conversation had veered from its destination. He wasn't sure where, he had been paying pretty fucking close attention.

There were some feelings that were better left tucked away in the corner of your heart. Less complications. Less _messy_ complications. The two usually went hand in hand.

Now he was just plain mad. At her. Of course he'd have to be insane to show her. She had taken a big giant step…he thought in the same direction toward cooperation, but he was wrong. Again.

Not about to backslide into dysfunction Sandor shook his head, reaching for a sentence that never came. " Listen…"but before he could think of what more to say her lips were on his. Soft, knee buckling soft, and supple lips coaxed at his mouth in delicious slow sweeps. Something in him stretched and roared to life, but like unbendable iron he didn't move, didn't dare think what to do next. Her fingers were in his hair, desperate grips that longed for a reaction, her smell overdosing his senses into full collapse.

His hands rounded on her shoulders, pushing her away more harshly than he intended. His bit his lip, the imprint of her saturated on him. She tasted just like he thought, strawberries and some other kinds of sweetness that was purely feminine and meant to make a man go hard whatever the state of him.

Hand on his mouth he scrambled inside for something to say. Although his face remained an impassive wall of blankness, he was more tempted with the urge to shake her than anything else. Was she purposely trying to hurt herself or just make this impossible for him…

Without daring to look at her he already knew she was blushed an arousing pink, her chest heaving, and hurt pride was shining brilliant in her depthless eyes.

He wiped a sweaty palm over his face, than grinded his teeth together for aggravation's sake. He would have been fine never having known that piece of information for the rest of his life, would have been content for the rest of his days without her ever having touched him. He was not meant to every feel those lips.

"Sansa."

Her pride was winning out now that the adrenaline had faded, giving way to embarrassment and doubt. " I thought…"

" What about Joff?" If he stuck to the boyfriend angle maybe he could get out of this without another round of 'sharing' or a temper tantrum.

" I-I"

" Isn't he your boyfriend?" The question was just that –a simple question, no matter how she chose to read the intention.

"Well…sorta." Her top lip nibbled in contemplation at the lower. " We've been together for a few months."

" Seemed more than that when I caught you two making out at the party the other night."

Shoulders squared her pride shoved for dominance. She was all her mother.

" And your point?"

Despite what had just taken place he had to laugh. There was solely edge in the less than mirthful sound. He felt drunk and high at the same time. Sandor did not like being the one _not_ in control. " My point? Go make out with half the student body if you want, just keep your lips off mine."

Yes he was warning her and eyeballing her with a glare that should have gotten the message clear across. " Fine." She shouted, standing straight up like an angry pez dispenser. " I'll do that."

" Don't start," he demanded when her anger wiped away whatever delicious arousal had been tinting her face. Great. Back to fucking square one. He stood, praying for ease to overtake his inflexible form. " I'm going to make a plate for you…you need some food in you."

" I don't-"

" I'll be back," he said, his back to her as he made for the door, slamming it shut before she could utter another word.

A bucket of ice being poured on him would have been less startling than all this shit being thrown at him. Why the hell did she have to go baring her soul ? And why had he ever been part of her heart to begin with? He wasn't worthy to lick her boots…she was…and he was….

She kissed him.

Fuck. He groaned inwardly.

Just when he thought they were turning a corner another monkey wrench was thrown into the mix.

Peace didn't seem like a viable option at this point anymore, civility was a far stretch from reality, so what was left?

Fuck if he knew. He drudged towards the stairs, in need of a very stiff, strong drink.

~8~

So he took the coward's way out. Couldn't account for many instances where that happened but it was true just the same.

He made a plate for her like he said he would. Cleaned up the mess in the sink and packed away all the leftovers into the refrigerator. But after doing all that and pouring himself a strong glass of twenty -year old scotch Sandor headed to his room and never left.

He heard her open her door a few times, heard the shower turn on and off, than her small barely there footsteps walk down the stairs. He hoped she ate. And he would certainly ask her tomorrow, but other than the routine questions he would learn now to leave well enough alone.

He didn't have to do much convincing to come to terms with that truth. The facts mounted over whatever miniscule animal instincts he had been suppressing like a leash on a tiger for the past few hours.

By this time he should be asleep. He should be on his fucking tenth dream by now. The rain was coming down in buckets and the rumble of thunder in the near distance always served well in the past to help lull him unconscious.

Tonight that was not the case. He couldn't be more fucking awake and aware of the room on the opposite side of the hall than he was at the moment.

Turning on his side, he grabbed the other pillow from behind him and pushed it under his head. The comfort, the quiet, and the soothing sound of the storm outside could not break his bullet like awareness.

It all made sense now. Why she had went from being shy and sweet to him as a kid to playing the reluctant elusive siren as a teenager. She was trying to figure out her feelings for him; protecting herself at the same time as hoping upon hope that he would see her as more than just some girl he guarded. She tried to make herself available to him while keeping him at arm's length.

Standard mixed signals from a female.

This situation couldn't be any more fucked up.

Sansa was …so many, many things, but mostly unattainable stood out like a blaring neon sign. If he wanted her he could storm into her room, throw her down and take her. Simple and straightforward was always his approach, but this wasn't a time and place he could use such tactics. And not with her.

Never with her.

If he was home this all could be settled so easily. He'd call what's her name from last night and plow himself into her, make her scream and moan so loud it would drown out whatever image of Sansa he had stuck in his head. He would fuck every woman from here to the state line if it meant keeping his hands off his boss's daughter.

But everywhere he turned she was there. His fucking cock wouldn't stay down and he had been dodging dark images of her and him for the past hour.

A soft knock at the door jolted him from his thoughts and he shot up into a sitting position. There could only be one person on the other side of that hunk of wood called a door.

" Go to bed," he warned in a weak rasp.

A pause came and went before she said anything. " Please…I-I'm scared."

So was he. For different reasons. " Just some thunder out there. Nothings going to hurt you."

" Sandor please." Her tiny plea begged like she was right up against his body, breathing into his ear.

" It's a storm not a goddamn war. Go back to bed."

" I cant." Her reply as small as an ant and just as defenseless.

He wouldn't give her the satisfaction of moving. He was comfortable were he was, let her feel awkward and embarrassed. " Fine," he grunted sharply, his head hitting the pillow again with more oomph.

He refused to give her notice as she tip toed into the dark room and around to the other side. For a split second there was a moment of no movement than the covers lifted, a light breeze chilling his skin, and the bed dipped in from her slight weight.

She didn't waste any time getting what she really came for. "Are you mad at me?"

She was too fucking close.

" No. Now go to sleep."

Suddenly aware he was only in his boxer briefs he covered his bare shoulders with what little blanket he had. He yanked on his corner of the quilt just to spite her.

" You are mad." She concluded a little too relaxed with the current position they were in. " I just don't understand why. If anything I should be mad at you."

" What?" he spit out, turning on his back, if only to glare at her enough to give her more a fright than the damn wimpy storm outside.

" Well," she stated matter of fact, " I'm the one who let my feelings out. You're the one who ran away and never came back. Like I should be embarrassed or something. But I'm not."

" Well good for you." Sandor chided sarcastically, none too impressed. " Are you done talking cause I need sleep."

Darkness was a tricky thing. First it blinded you. Than when you adjusted to it, the black inkiness entrapped you, letting you see things you never would have caught otherwise.

Like her mouth, a rosebud that longed to be attended to.

Or her hair, velvet fire that begged for touching.

" I'm not sleepy." She was staring at his mouth now.

Leaning against the shoulder facing her he instructed annoyed," Sleep will come if you stop your talking and close your eyes."

The air whirled and strummed in the inches around the small space. He turned her way fully, hoping he'd scare her away with his close proximity.

" I don't want to sleep." She declared petulantly, wriggling that much nearer.

" You can't always get what you want." he heard himself say. Was this the price he was paying for always having to live by that rule.

Her chuckle was throaty and sexy like the burn of heady shot going down.

" Don't I know it."

" When have you ever not gotten what you wanted princess..." He gauged evenly, fascinated by what her reaction might be. He knew either way she would fail to disappoint.

" Lots of things." Her hair was still damp from her shower and her breath smelled minty. " And I'm not a princess."

" Yeah you are. You belong in some castle somewhere, with servants and a fancy gown… in another century."

Her lashes were downcast and fluttering about like butterfly wings about to take flight. She probably didn't get that his comment was more a compliment than he had ever given any woman in his life. " But than I wouldn't know you." She was smiling shyly, her gaze still unsure. Her hand lifted to touch his jaw but he grabbed it and held her still.

" Don't."

" Why?" she breathed out.

A heartbeat later and he had little to say." Just don't."

" I know you feel something for me Sandor. I could tell by..." His fingers were still wrapped around her wrist, frozen in mid air. When nothing was said she blanched, doubt seeping in her stare. " Y-You don't … you don't want me?"

How was he to answer that without complicating this further? She didn't know much about men if she even had to wonder if he wanted her. Guess Joff wasn't much of a teacher. She had been chased by boys since she was a freshman in high school, the girl should have seen been able to read the signs.

" Doesn't matter what I want. What matters is what's going on." He did his best to resonate unaffected by her blunt nearness. He dropped her hand and went back to face the wall. If possible more pissed off than he was before her presence beside him.

Her whisper was small but determined in it's meaning. " I know that….but I also know that…t-that's no way to live, _all_ the time."

" Someone wanted you dead and I'm not going to rest or distract myself until they are dead themselves. No one's going to hurt you again. Got it?" he growled into the night air. When she didn't answer he sighed, relieved, but no more closer to sleep than he was two hours ago.

" I got it," she said finally surrendering, " but I still think that's no way to live."

He let her have the last word since the last part of her sentence was said with a yawn.

Rest was an elusive slippery little sucker that he was never going to catch up to unless he was home with his apartment surrounding him and Sansa Stark on the other side, back at college immersed in her social activities and as far away from the likes of him as possible.

Sleep eventually took over, Sandor's eyes shutting in servitude to the severe heaviness of exhaustion… but the dreams, the dreams that awaited him were very much another thing altogether.


	5. Chapter 5

A Constant Throb

Part V

He awoke to the smell of fabric softener and drier sheets clinging to him. Something tickled at his nose and he wiggled the end to suffice the itch, content and cozy where he was. But the persisting annoyance wouldn't leave him so he peeked an eye open and saw glowing red as his only vision. Strands of hair were splayed across his face and naked chest, the swishy feel like a silken fan across his skin.

He heard a slight moan below him or maybe it was next to him. He wasn't really sure as more and more of him rose from slumber, satiated and satisfied from a good sleep, only to be replaced by something foreign to him- panic. His foggy brain slowly surfaced, bobbled for answers, reality piling on him in small stern doses.

Sansa was entangled in him. Or more accurately they were entangled in each other. Inches below was her face, both of them were on their sides, their bodies incased in one another. Her one leg was in between his two, her other thrown over his hip. Her arms were folded into her chest almost like she was praying, her nose pressed in between his shoulder and the bed, the sharp little point sticking up like she was making a piggy face.

Son of a bitch.

What the hell was he suppose to do now. If he woke her things would be even more awkward but if he stayed like this he was going to end up breaking his willpower and she would be on her back with him inside her in no time.

Her gray nightshirt had ridden up exposing the white panties she had purchased at Wal-Mart. There was nothing interesting or eye catching about them, just plain old white bikini underwear, but on her they stood out, the cut accenting all the areas that he loved.

The nightie was ridiculously big. Sansa had said something about them only having a size large when they were on line to pay but he had tried not to listen. He had thought the less he knew about her under garments and bed wear the better but see where that had gotten him?

The sleeve was falling off her shoulder, a breast almost plopping out; the creamy white globe luscious. The ripe hint of a nipple made his mouth water, pushing at him to taste her. She was an eight course meal he wanted to feast on and savor for hours.

His dick had been hard since before he woke but now that his thoughts were falling in line with his body the strain was almost unbearable. This constant push and pull between them, this never ending ache that throbbed back and forth to life was fucking needling at his side like a hot poker.

" Hey," her sleepy voice announced from under him. Her warm breath whished against the skin there and the flesh rose in answer.

Wiping her hair from his face he forced his body not to lock up. " Hi," he said back, sleep still evident in his rumbled return of a word.

Content as a kitten waiting to be petted, Sansa purred out, " Did you sleep ok?"

Sandor was not amused with the fact that she was acting like the experienced adult and him the fucking teenage virgin. If she even was one. " Fine." He loosened his hold on her, a cold emptiness replacing where her body had pressed against. He cleared his dry throat," You?"

"Good," her eyes dazzled up at him. Her body shifted a bit, the brush of her center rubbing into his erection. She did that on purpose. There was no way she didn't feel him straining and tight against her. She stayed just as she was and he knew he felt dampness there.

" I should go downstairs, heat up some breakfast for us."

Her eyes said no, a sweet darkness shrouding out the gleaming brilliance.

" Okay…"

" I should….go," he said to himself this time, watching her mouth nibbling and wondering where her thoughts were and did they delve as darkly as his. Her front did that rubbing thing again and her nibbling turned harder like a bite, like she was stifling a moan. He swallowed the thickness that knotted and lodged in his throat, constricting him from air. " Sansa." He breathed out.

" Please." Her pride was thrown out the window. Her tone abandoned with nothing but wanton need. " No one will know."

He was shaking his head and she plucked a soft open kiss over his sealed lips.

" Sandor." The begging pull of his name drove a crack through his sanity. Did she really know what she was getting herself into once he crossed that line. He didn't have to ask because the answer was no.

"We're here … just for now….can't we just be…t-together… Please." Her fingernails lightly scratched at his chest, grabbing a bit at the hair.

Just for now. What did that even begin to mean he couldn't fathom. Just this one time? Just as long as they were here in this cabin?

Eyes open and searching hers like a laser, he came within a hairs breath of her.

There was no hiding the way her hips were pressing into his. She was desperate like a dog in heat. He could have been anybody…maybe not. If he hadn't busted in on her and Joffrey maybe this wouldn't even be an issue. Something in the back of his mind told him the excuse was just that but he couldn't accept any other reason as a truth.

He grabbed a chunk of locks from behind her ear and tugged lightly, forcing her hazy eyes awake and on him. He moved closer, nose to nose, watching her pupils dilate, her body thrum with anticipation.

" If we do this there's no turning back." The words were said as a promise _and_ a threat. He wasn't sure he even knew what he wanted. He was certain though that once he started he wasn't going to stop until he had his full of her.

She shook her head too eagerly, no thought in her brain but his feel on her body.

His kiss was chaste, just a small slip of lips moving and falling away. Her eyes drifted shut as he brought more pressure on, tightening his arms around her and slanting his mouth to deepen the move ever so slightly. Her mouth was compliant to his, giving him full access. She let him control the kiss, his head moving this way and that as she just gripped at him from his sides. Soon though their tongues began to glide hungrily against each other, still slow and achingly sensual. He pulled harder at her hair, bringing her mouth even closer, tasting every inch.

The kiss built and heightened until they were at each other like two wild animals. Both gasping for breath and starving too much for more to give up a second for air.

Their bodies rocked back and forth, him leaning more into her, the thin fabric of their underwear causing a pleasuring friction where she was wet. He could see on her face she could come right now if he continued this but he didn't want that.

" Sansa."

" No please don't stop-" She sounded about to cry or throw a fit.

He would smile if he wasn't so lust drunk. The fire in her eyes made him wonder why he had stopped kissing her in the first place." Have you ever been touched down there?"

Her face hid nothing, couldn't if it wanted to. She was an open book of portraits. Lovely, open, and vibrant. " Once with Joffrey….H-he used his fingers."

From her tone she didn't appear to have liked it. " I want to."

She shook her head slowly…." Okay…"

" With my tongue."

Red tinged vanilla was the hue of her embarrassment. " W-with…I don't know….I mean you –you want to…to do that?"

Her reserve fueled him higher. " Badly," he rasped out, on the brink.

He gave her a soft probing kiss than suckled her bottom lip before asking against it." Please," his thumbs were hooked onto her panties, waiting for a yes. He was the one begging now and for some reason that turned him on even more.

" Yes," she finally whimpered out, an earthquake kind of shake in her voice.

He easily plucked the scrap of fabric off and away, discarding them behind him in a careless throw. Her nightshirt was already up to her waist and as he scooted down he lifted it a bit higher, eye level with her perfect round sumptuous tits. He kissed around her nipple, sucking and licking everything but the small budded spot that wanted his attention. Than he teased further, small strokes at the tips that turned languid and long. He did that for a while before latching on and sucking greedily, hearing her soft excited groaning above him. Her head flew back as his mouth fused around tighter, making noises, as he continued to ravage her breasts, one than the other.

Than he backed away and threw the comforter to the floor. He wedged his way in between her legs as Sansa battled with holding back her delirium.

Sandor placed soft kisses at her knees, working his way up the sides of her thighs, in and out. Her skin was a pearl, flawless and so smooth that an ache bloomed within him for the wish to stop and gaze at her. But he was too hungry for that indulgence right now. He nipped a bit, grazing his teeth against her and watched as her hips jolted and her mouth opened in a tremble.

His mouth licked at the inside corners of her thighs than slowly lapped at the slit, light swooshes that made her whimper in frustration. He stroked his tongue up the small length of her clit than went back to the line of her opening, back and forth, enticing than leaving her to beg for more. He wanted her at his mercy.

She was soaking wet, her hands went from clutching the sheets at her sides to covering her eyes to ripping at her hair. He took her whole clit in his mouth, rubbing his tongue against the sensitive nub than letting it twirl inside like sucking on a sweet lollipop that had an even sweeter center. She went wild above him.

" Sandor!" She was slapping his back, punching his shoulder, some of her fingernails dug into him and that just made him suck harder.

And than she went still for a second right before she screamed, her whole body convulsing uncontrollable, her jaw dropping open and her breasts slapping against herself as she rode his mouth until she hit oblivion. Her hips were moving against him at a savage pace and he gripped at her stomach on both sides to keep her still and draw out the pleasure. Her gasps were incoherent mutterings of his name and god, taunting him to release his cock and plunge in her, have her close in around him to the hilt and fuck her deep and raw.

He was the one seducing her yet he was the one who felt seduced. He sat up on his knees staring at her full length. Her gorgeous waves spread over the dark gray sheets, her vanilla skin iridescent in the overly masculine room, and he was at a loss as what to do next but take. Take her. Take all of her and never let her away from him again.

The unfamiliarity of such a thought had him wiping a hand over his face and licking her juices off his mouth, far from where he was but the essence of her laying heavily on his brain.

A minute later and she was still shaking, her body limp, hair clinging to her neck and sticking out in different directions and her eyes only open in slits enough to smile at him.

He stared at her, almost detached to what had happened. His predatory gaze roamed over her, stayed where the triangle of fiery hair was still in partial view.

If that was how she orgasmed he was a fucking addict. The way she screamed, the way her body lifted and spasmed. Her face.

He slid back next to her to kiss her sweaty forehead, realizing he needed some space.

" I'm going to get some water." She was almost asleep and he was battling with the notion to lie there and watch her, wait until her strength came back and he could have her another way. Any way. As long as he could keep touching her he didn't care. But she needed to recuperate first, give her a few minutes. A good few minutes they both needed.

He had crossed a line. A very thick bright 'DO NOT TRESPASS' line, one that he had constructed himself. But now that he had crossed it, he was going to go crazy if he didn't have her soon.

And if she let him, he wouldn't hesitate to consumer her fully.

~8~

The girl had a terrible effect on him.

He was in the middle of filling up the glass of water when like a strike of lighting hitting him he remembered that he was supposed to check in with Ned last night.

For the first time in the eight years he had been working under the Stark name Sandor forgot to do what he was told-Call his fucking boss.

Not only was he still fucking hard for Sansa, but he now had to squelch that craving and be a guard, boss, and every other hat he fucking wore twenty four hours a day.

Punching the numbers of the wall phone in the kitchen, Sandor rubbed his burning eyes for the third time. Hopefully a cold shower and a hot strong cup of coffee would make up for what he wasn't going to be doing any time soon. Something had to give.

She was safe. Safe and sound.

And in the end that was all that mattered. He had to keep perspective. If nothing else than for his fraying mentality.

"Hello?"

Clearing the dust from his throat, he spoke quietly not to wake the red headed nymph upstairs. " It's Sandor. Put Ned on."

" Sandor…Dad was a bit worried. He thought something happened…" Jon wasn't much of a talker like himself. Probably why they always got along. If he was speaking now Sandor knew he must have meant what he said. " Is everything ok?"

" Yeah." He tried not to snap at him out of embarrassment. He screwed up and because of that Sansa's parents were worried sick, their imaginations running rampant with images and ideas, scaring themselves when he should have been soothing their anxiousness away. " Just put your father on."

The line on the other end paused for a longer time than he liked. Ned wasn't a worrier. A man couldn't be in this business otherwise their position would be as short lived as their lives. But when family was involved all the rules and preparations went out the window. There was no guidebook to incidents that were personal.

" Sandor." The elder Stark was all business. Waiting for his explanation.

Guilt made him stutter wordlessly. His jaw clenched and unclenched several times before he mumbled out gravelly, " I'm sorry Sir. No excuse."

" Why didn't you call?"

That was a good question. He gave him the semi truth hoping that would hold up as a feasible explanation." Honestly, Sir… I fell asleep. I was on five hours of rest in two days. Your daughter made a delicious meal. Between that and staying up I was out cold before I could remember. I did mean to call."

He hated how weak he came off.

He punched at the wall next to the phone with the side of his fist. He hated men who made excuses and here he was doing exactly that. This wasn't how he operated and Ned had picked him as head bodyguard for those very reasons.

There was a slight chuckle on the other end. Sandor wasn't right in the head to figure out its meaning. He was still too fucking pissed." Well I wish you would have. You can bring Sansa home."

Shoulders squared, he blinked. " Good. I'm glad to bring her home to you. What happened?"

"Well, turns out Tyrion had some unwanted debts to some serious bookies in town. He got himself in a deep hole and he thought that if he took Sansa hostage he could get some money for her and maybe impress his father enough to let him be more part of the business."

Made sense coming from a Lannister. Their blood ran green. " How did you find that out?"

" Tywin had men searching too when Tyrion went missing. The bookies had him but Tywin's men got through quick….Let's just say it didn't take long to get his son to talk after that," Ned concluded easily. The strain that saturated his voice yesterday was completely gone, replaced by the Ned Sandor admired and respected.

Sandor shook his head still not relieved or happy with himself. " Okay. Well leave first thing we can today."

" Please do. Sansa's mother is eager to see her as we all are. It's been a long two days." His boss allowed a hint of stress to show in his sentence.

" Of course." Sandor nodded agreeably. " I'll call when we are on our way."

"See that you do." His boss let out pointedly. " Keep her safe." He said before hanging up.

Sandor slammed the phone on the hook than did it a few more times because it felt good. He had fucked this up left and right without excuse. There was no excuse except that he was weak and he folded. He caved in and wanted something he was never suppose to fucking have.

No, he was _not_ weak. He wouldn't let himself be.

" Fuck!" He ripped the phone out of the wall and slammed the piece of plastic into the floor. As he did a blur of gray caught his otherwise temper-ridden sight.

"Sandor."

His back to her, he let his breathing level, let his blurred eyes straighten and clear from the rage within him before he turned to face her. She went to pick up the mess he had made but he stood in front of the wreckage of a broken phone and dry wall. " Leave it."

He sounded like a nasty son of a bitch. Nothing that she actually deserved after what they had been through together. She was all soft and sweet in front of him. Her uncertain gaze blinked up at his stiff tone and she pulled at her skirt to cover more of herself. " You're happy to bring me home?"

It was now that he saw the tears reflecting off the blue of her eyes. "Your parents are worried about you. The danger is gone. It's time to go home Sansa."

Her lips were still swollen from his kisses. Small blotches of red on her flawless neck and chest mocked him from the few feet of distance between them. Might as well have been inches. " Don't you think we should talk about…this, about us-"

"There is no us."

Her surprise was well concealed for an eighteen year old but being a pro at dissecting people he saw the wound he created. " But you said…you said…there was no t-turning bac-"

" What happened here was an accident. A mistake more than anything. Think you and I both know that."

" No," she shook her head at him, her red hair whirling about, spinning around her like trails of fire. " I don't know that. Something has been between us for a while Sandor. You're just too chicken to face it."

Like the four walls surrounding them, he remained rooted in place and impenetrable. " Go back to Joff. You're better off."

Sansa grabbed at the first available thing she saw, a napkin holder, and threw it at him. He refused to duck and let it hit him in the chest. He moved to step closer, gut instinct still warring for control, but he held himself still." Stop acting like this. This isn't a fucking movie girl. Now get your bags packed. Were leaving in a hour."

" You're a coward," she spat, pure acid in her tone.

And than he was moving forward, in her face. " If that's how you need to see me to end this than fine, I'm a coward. Now get upstairs."

" Don't tell me what to do." One tear tripped down her cheek.

" Your dad and mom want you home! Do you fucking get that?" His exclamation hoarse. " That was the goddamn order."

Her hair was in her face, her breath coming out in short exerted pumps. Her glare could freeze water an inch off the equator. " Right. I forgot. Always on duty." Tears fell but there was only anger riding her features scarlet. And than she turned, lunging for the stairs and making her way up, slamming the door behind her enough to make the ceiling fan in the living room jiggle.

Sandor stood there. Made no move to clean up the mess he had made as he stared blankly at the heap. Demolition was still very much coursing through his veins. He was in the mood to destroy and destroy only. He wished he was at home at the firing range or in the woods near by hunting. The peace would settle down over where the anger was and the quiet would sooth the pain in his head.

He would have to wait on that though. Staring up at her door once more Sandor sighed bitterly into his chest. He had cleaned up one mess already today, seemed he was fated to clean another one up as well.


	6. Chapter 6

A Constant Throb

Part VI

He cut the engine as soon as he rolled beside the curb that faced opposite her house. Between traffic and an accident involving an overturned food truck that collided into a gasoline tanker it was almost nightfall by the time they drove up to the Stark residence.

No words were said between them the whole ride down. Sandor had endured a variety of torture starting early in his life. Name calling that did nothing but thicken his skin. Brutal fights which made him toughen on the outside as well on the inside. The older he got the more creative people became with ways to hurt; like a screwdriver chiseling away beneath bruised skin. But not all bruises were seen. He never complained though. The words, the scars, they served to better him. At least that was what he thought.

The past six hours in the car with her were a kind of torture he hadn't been taught to handle. This was new. All of it. Her silence. Her frosty glares followed by soundless tears. She covered up as good as she could. Using her dark blue hoodie to muffle out the strangle in her throat and dry away the water that continued to fall, betraying her much needed mask of armor.

If he wasn't so aware of her every move he could have easily ignored her. At the cabin the tension was a bit easier to escape since the space helped thin out what they created. But here in the confines of a small pickup truck, the only relief was the loud radio and the feel of the wind through the open window.

He had hurt her more than he probably knew though he tried not to focus on it. He was caught. Like a fucking deer in headlights. A tug of war was going on in his head. Wanting to soothe her, pull the car over and grab her against him, kiss her senseless for hours on end. Or push her even further away, call a driver to pick her up and tell Ned he needed a few months off to get his head straight. Wait it out there in the cabin till she was back in school and he could think right again. Use the time to look for another job and see what other opportunities popped up.

" Your parents are waiting," he finally voiced after a minute or two of nothing but her lack of movement.

She picked at a nail as she stared through the dashboard, lost. " Is that it than? You have nothing else to say to me but that?"

Her hair was bunched in a sloppy low ponytail that cascaded over her shoulder, some stray hairs hid under her plain white t-shirt, against the soft skin of her chest. She wore no makeup and she hid no emotions no matter how much she damn well tried.

" I'm sorry."

And he meant that. Sorrys never spilled from his mouth unless he was being a bastard and wanted to get a rise from someone. This was real. Even though so much in the last few days had been fucked up and on guard, there was still realness between them. Too much of it. One of the many reasons why he was doing what he was doing.

Whether she was ready to accept or understand his apology he couldn't read.

" Sorry for what exactly…saving my life, not wanting me…making the mistake and letting me k-kiss you…"

She stumbled over the word kiss like she did a lot of words with him. Her shy reserve followed by her bold brashness was probably his favorite thing about her. " I'll never be sorry for saving your life," he said almost angry now. She should know that at least. " The rest is…"

" A mistake." She recited, blurting the painful word out before he could beat her too it. " Yes, I know you said that already."

He nodded though he didn't know why, than kept still like he was made of marble. His eyes were on the big white two story house that Sansa called home. A wrap around porch with comfy deck chairs and scattered toys left by Rickon littered the floor. Arya's bike was leaning against the side of the house and Jon's red mustang was parked crooked across from him. Robb lived a few miles away with his new wife and baby on the way.

Perfect home for a perfect family.

He was a mistake she should have never had.

Resilience ran in her blood and in a week's time she would be at the beach with Joff having a splashing fight in the ocean or flirting over cones of ice cream. Either way he would be out of her head and some day out of her foolish heart.

Something close to a hot talon clawed his insides at the thought. He was nothing if not a possessive creature by nature.

" You should go," he scraped the words out. He was done talking, he needed her away and the open road to think.

" Dad will want to see you," she pointed out evenly, almost confident he would have to abide with this well known ritual. " You know how he is with…things like this…" the last words fell into quiet.

She was right. Ned Stark was a traditional man. He liked to thank a man with a handshake and good eye contact. Texts or calls were weak rude replacements in a situation such as this one.

Shit.

He pulled the key out of the ignition.

" I'm surprised you're not running to him with complaints. All the _babysitting_ you had to do." Unlocking the door she was partly out when he grabbed at her wrist or specifically a piece of her hoodie that was draping over her wrist.

" Babysitting." He seethed through the slit of his clenched teeth. Square one had a sour taste on his mouth. Would she never see one honorable aspect of him or was her pride so overwhelming she couldn't tell he was doing this to fucking protect her. " Get back in the car."

When she refused to come back inside she pulled at the fabric with the strength of a field mouse and the determination of a prizefighter. " Let go of me," her mouth was just as set and closed off as his.

He let go. And she fell right on her bottom in a hard thump.

Swinging the car door open he slammed it shut and was almost to her when she stood up and rushed at him, pushing at his chest.

" You don't get to order me around anymore." The band in her hair had fallen off, letting loose all those majestic waves. The calmness in her voice startled him, but not half as much as her cutting words. "…I'll put in a good word with my dad if that's what your worried about. Who knows maybe he'll even give you a bonus for the all the overtime you put in."

She whipped around him and he stood rooted in place and for the first time with her speechless as motherfucking mute.

By the time his brain comprehended her slashing retort she was halfway up the driveway with the whole family surrounding her. Kissing and hugging went on for an endless amount of minutes and all Sandor could do was stand there.

Ned waved him in from the porch and Sandor jotted his chin out in response. Sansa never looked back as she wiped the tears from her eyes and began to recite the tale of what had happened to a very captive audience. All the while her mother brushed her hair from her face as Arya hugged her from behind before interrupting and asking endless questions. Jon took the small bag from her shoulders and smiled his way before hugging his sister to his side. Bran and Rickon danced around her, not really understanding what was going on but happy none the less.

They were a family.

And he didn't belong any where near them.

~8~

Ned Stark's office reflected his personality to the very indistinguishable but necessary sharp letter opener that sat parallel to his phone.

His desk and furniture were dark cherry wood, no frills or decorating of any sort arrayed the vast room. A person could tell he used the area for business and business only. The rest of the house was warm and colorful, knick knacks hung all over and framed pictures of vacations and special events plastered every available space of wall.

Ned's desk had one picture of his whole family and little else. The man abhorred clutter and Sandor more than heartily agreed with him. His office exemplified Sandor's whole apartment. One picture of parents in his living room. Another of his deceased sister on the end table beside his bed, none of his asshole brother that was for sure. Little else was on the wall but the dark maroon red he painted himself. All a man really needed was a place to call home and a warm bed to lay on at night and he was considered fortunate.

Or so he thought.

" I will never be able to repay you for what you have done for me," Ned said seated at his desk, his gray steel eyes warm with appreciation. " Things have been so peaceful these past few years…this is a brutal reminder that we should always have our guard up. No matter what," he confided to the hulking man opposite him.

The leather chair felt too small for his oxen self. Or maybe the guilt was squeezing at his skin, contracting and waiting to burst at the seams. " Sir, I did what any man under your service would have done. I'm just sorry I didn't see the danger ahead of time to avoid this altogether."

The older man scoffed lightly at him. " You're too hard on yourself, Clegane. Always have been. No man can be perfect one hundred percent of the time. Not even me," he japed, obviously trying but failing to loosen up the inflexible contour of his bodyguard's features.

" If you say so." Sandor said, wanting to flee this place like a fucking bat out of hell. He could smell apple pie and hot dogs in the air and this kind of homecoming was a little too close to domestic bliss for the marred damned soul he was.

" What do I owe you?"

Sandor's brow quirked in confusion.

" For the supplies…gas, whatever else you had to cover."

He quickly interrupted, almost insulted by the generous but unnecessary gesture. " Nothing. It was my pleasure…Please."

Neither man liked to argue but both were stubborn as mules, digging their heels in when opposition was met. But if a comparison were made it was the man seated opposite Ned who would win hands down. " I'll see that you are rewarded regardless my friend."

_Friend_.

" I hope Sansa was not too much trouble She can be as headstrong as her mother. She is a Tully through and through, but her Stark coldness can rear its ugly head when least expected," he recalled fondly, chuckling lost in some memory of Sansa as a girl Sandor could only guess.

Bull headed was more like it; and coldness wasn't as near as bad as the slicing accusations she flung followed by her big doe eyes and pouting lips. He had to hand it to her though. She gave as good as she got. They were pretty much on equal footing when it came to shutting people out and letting them in almost simultaneously.

He could almost smile when he pictured her flaming blue eyes and the indignant lift of her nostrils… but indulging in such images were trouble, only for nights alone in his bed when he was too fucked in the head to keep his guard up.

He realized Ned was waiting patiently for an answer. The less words said the better. " She was fine, Sir. Considering the circumstances she was perfect."

" Perfect," he quaffed, " I love my daughter but she is much to handle even for both Cat and I at times."

What part of that was supposed to surprise him he wanted to say, but there was no way to rearrange that sentence without sounding disrespectful. Ned and Catelyn were good parents, their daughter was just a willful little thing that needed to be put in her place more than coddled. Or maybe he just couldn't be objective because she had become etched to him like an extra layer of skin.

He still had the taste of her on his tongue. " I best be going …thank you for…" for…

" Thank _you_, Sandor," the elder Stark said as he gave him a firm handshake and patted him heartily on the shoulder. " This will not be forgotten."

With a final nod Sandor made for the door as if it would vanish or move from place if he didn't reach it in time. His hand was on the knob when Ned spoke up again. " We'd love for you to stay for dinner…. I'm bbqing if you can believe that."

The door was slightly open, the loud voices of laughter and jokes drifting in.

" No … thank you though. I best be getting home. It's been a long two days."

Understanding shone on his boss's face and Sandor relaxed in place knowing the invitation wouldn't be pushed further. " Please. Of course…have the rest of the week to yourself. Get back to me on Monday. Sound good?"

Better than good. Maybe he could call whatever her name was and spend the next three days at her place. " Yes….Sounds good."

Sandor walked past the dark hallway. His eyes skimmed the living room than peeked through the small window to the kitchen. Arya was playing with Sansa's hair making a ridiculous looking braid on top than laughing as she poked Bran behind her sister's back to snicker along with her. Catelyn was stirring beans in a pot while she agreed to something someone on the phone was saying.

And Sansa ….her eyes were down, appearing lost. What she was lost in he wondered to know but would never ask. His curiosity with her was a fruitless journey with no end in sight. Arya yanked at her hair but she stayed unperturbed, fingering the hollow space behind her ear. Her eyes lifted, swaying about the room before landing on him. He could have been lying on a bed of hot coals her stare stung and ached twelve inches in his gut.

He stared back. Was the only thing he had the power to do before he set his eyes to the floor and walked out.

This time he wasn't so glad knowing she would not follow where he went.

But he had to be.

She was safe and exactly where she was meant to be.

As was he.

Alone.

~8~

The bar was dark and smoky just like his thoughts.

He liked pubs where few people went but the regulars and the bartenders were on first name bases with them, always counting on good tips that were followed good customer service.

Sandor was one of them. Friday nights he usually found a seat next to some war veteran who liked to talk about the old times and how much better life was when cell phones didn't exist and families didn't use television as a babysitter. He liked the conversations mainly because all he had to do was agree, which he did, until he had his full of Guinness and stale peanuts.

No loud women or bar brawls had to broken up. **Reds** was on his way home and easily ignored by the mobs of twenty something's who lived their weekend's club hopping.

He had gone home first and planned to stay there, exhausted and mentally bent out of shape from the last two days. He had showered, shaved, ready to hit the hay when he listened to his answering machine. Osha had left three messages saying she missed him and why had he dropped off the face of the planet when they had had such a good time together. Blah blah fucking blah… He knew her name began with an O, which was saying something when all a man like him really paid attention to was the physicality of women.

Without much thought behind his actions Sandor dialed her number and after a minute of meaningless banter he cut to the chase and asked her to meet him at **Reds**. His temper had him barking at people all night and he was hoping Osha would let him take some of his aggression out on her. Save his mind before he pulled a gun on some helpless chap, shot first and let regret have its time later.

He was wound too fucking tight for his own good.

" Clegane, what's up your ass?" One of the regulars, Henry Bracken, an old Korean War vet, nursing the same beer for the past half hour called from a few bar stools away.

Sandor concluded he was more lonely than thirsty when he stopped by since it was several times a week and he only ordered one beer for the night. " Nothing," Sandor shrugged one shoulder, his head deep into his drink. Henry was sharp even at his age to leave well enough alone.

Next to Henry was a fellow Sandor never saw before although his face looked oddly familiar, but he was used to that in his line of work. He didn't talk and didn't seem to want to, ordering his drinks one after the other and keeping to himself as he did. He wore no wedding ring and he held no cell phone. His face was unreadable as he kept to his goal of getting blitzed out of his mind.

The young bartender Vin swiped at the sticky counter of sloshed beer and peanut shells. " You ready for another?" he asked without looking up.

Was that even a fucking question? " Yeah. Another," giving a tilt of his head just in case Vin didn't hear. The jut box was too loud for his taste and the usual sparse crowd had packed in good for a Friday night. Most of them were seated at the tables thank god. He didn't like being pressed against strangers or having to maneuver his way through a throng of drunk idiots. Nothing put him in a worse mood… actually that was far from true.

" Whoa."

Sandor had just gulped down the cold fresh taste of the dark ale placed in front of him when he heard Henry drooling next to him. Of course he couldn't hear the man drool but when Sandor glanced a look at him he was right. Henry could be a dirty old geezer just like the rest of his species but his wide slacked jaw and bulging eyes had even Sandor turning in his bar stool toward the entrance.

His lip tilted in a small smile at the thought of Osha finally finding her way there.

Motherfucker. Sandor was out of his stool and to the door before Vin could get the word holy shit out.

Grabbing her arm and whirling her around to face him Sandor did little to hide his contempt with the red headed spitfire. " What the hell are you doing here?"

Caught off guard as if he was the one raining in on her plans, she clamped a hand over her heart, swallowing the surprise hard and slow. " Sandor. I-I…I need to-"

" How did you know I was here?" he cut through, his anger spiking with each word.

" I didn't know. I went to your place… than happened to see your car in the lot when I passed by." Her cheeks pinked the color of an arousing red. She wore embarrassment in a way that was purely sexual though she did not know it.

"Well you can go out the same way you came in and don't come back." He released his firm hold on her arm, but did little to relinquish his crowded presence. She shouldn't be here. This was the last place he wanted her. Any place he abided was the last place he wanted her.

" Listen …I –I want to talk to you. Can you please just listen for a second!" She was shouting over the noise and music and he was having a hell of a hard time concentrating.

She was all dolled up. A black strapless dress, red high heels with a black bow in the back and dark makeup that accented her eyes, making them appear catlike. Her natural rosy lips were glistening a color he couldn't name and didn't like. Her hair was straightened. Pin straight it fell all the way down to the end of her tailbone.

His fingers bit into his palm, the frustrated wobble evident if one was paying close attention. Sansa's attention was on his eyes and mouth, a slow and steady volley between the two. Someone could have easily wiped the floor from under him, hitting him below the knees and rendering him incapacitated.

This was all her doing.

He tried again. Calmer. " You need to leave. Now Sansa."

Her eyes the color of twilight danced about amused but sad like a rain cloud awaiting sunlight that would never come. " I'm not under your protection right now Sandor…I don't have to do what you say."

_I'll always be protecting you. One way or another_, he almost said only slightly begrudged at the idea. " When it comes to this. Yes, you do."

When she licked her lips some of the sticky wet stuff went with it. Her lips were roses again. He bit back another foul word.

" I'm not here to argue with you," she insisted lightly.

" Good than leave." He suggested with an order in his strict tone. His voice grew with the music.

His callous bark drowned out the last of the fanciful play in her. " Why do you always have to be…such a…such a damn brute!" She puffed out, her mouth swelling as her fury grew. Tears walled over the sterling blue and she turned on her heel just as Sandor was catching her elbow.

She yanked away from him considerably harder than she ever did before, Sandor had to give her that. " You don't want to talk that's fine. I –I'm an idiot as always-"

" No…Sansa," he dragged her closer as more patrons entered. Pressed against him Sandor grounded out a curse between them. This was not how his night was supposed to go.

" I only make you miserable don't I?" She questioned under hooded lashes, clearly miserably with the prospect that she was indeed on to something. " I don't want that you know…I only want you h-happy…" She sniffed as the tears smudged some of her makeup and the tip of her nose turned red.

The ache grew in him, the leash that held him at bay snapping from the wear and tear of his thoughts. He pressed her even closer, the pub a forgotten afterthought. All he could feel was her warm lush body and the smell of her hair descending on him like fragrant scented lead.

Glued to him her eyes wavered for a second than back to him than behind him again. Her brow crunched together as it stayed on the spot right above his shoulder. Her head shook uncontrollably and than she was screaming, " Sandor look out!"

The world stilled and silenced and without forethought Sandor pushed Sansa against the dark foyer near the entrance behind her, whipping around as he pulled the knife from his back pocket. The lone man was in mid aim by the time Sandor got to him in a long dash.

In a flash he swooped in front knocking the gun to the side with one hand and plunging his knife deep into the belly of the gunman with the other.

Sandor's breathing staggered as he forced the man the rest of the way to the floor and knifed him again in the same area for good measure. He quickly looked to his left to make sure Sansa was alright. She was against the wall, white as a bleached sheet and barely breathing, but she was alive.

He lost a year of life just thinking of the other possibility.

Chaos erupted around him, curdled screams and panicked curses swarmed about like a beehive that had been whacked from its nest. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he dug into the man's front jacket pocket, found his wallet and quickly shoved it in his own than stood to find Vin dialing the authorities he could only guess.

Leaning against the counter Sandor eyed him and the direct stare was all he needed to get the bartender's attention. Discreetly Sandor gripped Vin's hand in a shake that held a hundred dollar bill and said, " I was never here."

He eagerly agreed, gulping down what could only be vomit in his throat. " Yeah man."

Someone must have picked up on the other end because Vin shook his head again and began to talk to the 911 operator. His story sounded pretty solid for a lie and Sandor was goddamn impressed with the young buck.

Wiping the blade on his black jeans he made his way quickly to Sansa while folding his knife up and pushing into his back pocket. " Let's go."

She gripped his open hand never breaking stride with his fast paced steps. They left the bar in his own 1999 Pathfinder truck as the sounds of sirens bellowed down the avenue.

Another near miss at death. Twice in one week.

Either Sandor Clegane was extremely lucky…. Or…. extremely unlucky. That all depended on the perspective.

~8~

She was ok.

He had to keep reminding himself she was ok. She was breathing and alive and fine.

On the way over to his apartment he couldn't stop from staring over at her just to make sure she wasn't an apparition his twisted mind had conjured up to haunt him. She was really next to him, flesh and blood, someone he could touch and feel if he reached out his hand…

But he didn't. Instead he kept his arm locked at his side like the rest of him while his other hand did all the driving.

He used the space of the ten minutes between the pub and his apartment to call Jory, give him the gunman's name, Aurane Waters, and tell him to get back to him a.s.a.p. He told him to dig up everything he could on the fucker and call him first before reporting to anyone else. Sandor wanted concrete proof this was connected to the Lannisters like his gut told him it was before dropping the news on Ned's shoulders.

Working on autopilot he was opening his apartment door before he could catch up with himself, growling out one word questions that the girl seemed to follow and shake her head to without resistance. Slamming the door shut he bolted both locks and stomped around the apartment checking windows and closets just for precautions sake. He wasn't in the mood to kill again tonight. Which was odd but true.

His mind was very much elsewhere.

When all was said and done Sansa was right where he left her. Leaning against the kitchen counter that was closest to the door. Her hands were balled together in fists in front of her, white knuckled. Her legs shook as if she needed the steady fixture of support behind her. Keeping herself busy she swiped the hair from her eyes and tucked back pieces that weren't even there.

She was scared. She'd never admit it, but she was. And so he approached her slowly… but there was still blood on his hand and murder in his eyes despite feeling relieved by the more than alive figure in front of him.

" You ok?" he came to stand in front of her. He couldn't help it.

One lone tear spilled but she was smiling reassuringly at him. " Yeah, I'm ok…" it was than he saw the small bruise on her cheek. Which, he cursed inwardly, was probably from his stupid ass move of throwing her away from him in a sloppy attempt to protect her.

" Your cheek," Sandor could hardly get the two words out, revulsion clogging his voice. He raised a hand to cup the soft skin there, but brought it down quick to ball at his side.

" Sandor… your hand," Sansa shouted, opening his palm. Her eyes widened at what he would call a scratch, and she was immediately checking him for other wounds. " I can't believe…are you hurt anywhere else? I'm sorry…I can't believe this happened. This is all my fault…" her cheeks were bathed in tears now…tears for him.

She was touching his sides, grabbing at his shoulders, inspecting his neck when all the while he was shaking, trying to keep her still, trying to not explode but she wouldn't stop her touching, her fucking hands were everywhere…and she was crying …over _him_.

" Stop Sansa," he commanded in a low destroying way.

She didn't stop. She couldn't hear him.

Her hair brushed against his forearm, her sobs wracking against her chest. " I should never have come…"

She was fucking crying for him.

And he lost it.

Grabbing both sides of her face, he pinned her against the counter. She gasped just as his mouth came down on hers and captured her upper lip between his. It didn't take long for her to catch up with his actions. She was pawing at his shirt, tugging hard enough to rip the front buttons as her mouth bloomed open below him and he drank her in with long sweeping motions of his mouth and tangled tongues.

There was no softness between them. He didn't wait for a reaction or see if she was frightened by his ferocity. Their tongues mated at a primal rate. He scraped her jaw with his teeth and she bent her head back, letting him devour every inch of the smooth column of her neck.

She latched her legs around him and he cupped her from behind not willing to break contact with her skin. She was moaning into the air above her as he scooped her up tighter against him and blindly found his way into his room, gripping her ass and pressing so she could feel the granite hardness of his cock.

The room was dark save for the moonlight spilling onto his bed, but he didn't have time for lights or flowers or pretty words. The need to be inside her was driving him to madness. He knew where to lay her and that was all that mattered.

He unzipped his jeans as she shimmed off her lacey red thong throwing it on the floor and waiting expectantly as he lowered his boxer briefs and pumped his stiff member in front of her. She pulled down the top of her dress and her creamy tits bounced out, touching them as she watched him touch himself.

Fuck.

She was …..fuck there was no word. She was everything.

" Please." She tweaked a hand around her nipple, her other hand reaching for him as he bent over. She spread her legs wide giving him full access to whatever he wanted.

He kissed her deeply, a kiss that never broke and had them slowing down and enjoying the rough feel of tongue against tongue. He cock glided momentarily over her clit before circling her moist entrance and then sinking inside slowly. Her cunt took him with some resistance, closing in and around him, suffocating and amazing like a satin glove.

The feeling was fucking ecstasy.

His long deft fingers latched around her bottom than traveled up her legs, cupping the back of her knees as he drove into her.

She was grunting like an animal beneath him. Her breath hitting his mouth as they stared at one another, eyes fully opened. His pelvis rocked against her expertly, making sure his dick shifted in slow and agonizing, brushing the walls of her entrance at all angles.

" _God_," she screamed as their hips flowed smoothly against each other. She met each move halfway now, her butt in the air as he thrusted in and out. She was anxious for the feel, his dick slid so smoothly the friction sent shivers up the back of his legs. Faster and faster. Their strides pulled at each other more franticly and he saw the build in her as she bit her lower lip and her eyes started rolling back in her head.

His fingers found her small nub and jotted ever so gently which instantly became her undoing. And so he bucked into her faster as her climax took over. Her feverish shouts and strangled moans had him stalking her reaction and he spilled his seed into her, feeling the warm hot liquid spread around her and him.

His whole body jolted in aftershock as she continued to pant and mutter to herself under him.

His arms gave way and he fell on top of her. Knowing he was probably crushing the small thing he moved to the side. He tried not to take her with him by pulling out but she protested with a small incoherent murmur and came with him, resting now on top of his chest, her head in between the crook of his neck.

The blackness of the room enveloped them. Her breathing leveled out before disappearing completely. She was asleep. That was a good thing.

Unconsciously her hands played with the lap of his shirt, small dozing circles that had his eyes drooping. He tightened his hold on her, kissing her forehead with gentle preciousness as he looked at the ceiling.

No matter what happened next he wouldn't be sorry about this. He just wouldn't.

And before any more words or thoughts could bombard the many avenues his brain could take Sandor was asleep. A good knocked out kind of sleep that he hadn't had in a very long time.


	7. Chapter 7

A Constant Throb

Part VII

" Cersei Lannister needs to die…and I need you to be the one who does it."

He spoke the command with just a trace of anger, more resigned calculation than anything else. Staring out the window, Ned Stark's eyes shifted two and fro at the expanse of his backyard. Sandor could only guess the horrific _what ifs_ that played through his head like a film reel. Outside the vast open beauty of nature spread out before him but he saw none of it. Not even his boys.

Bran and Rickon were jumping through the tire swing and wrestling on the ground like it was their last battle before nightfall. Catelyn called from the kitchen for them to calm down and stop screaming so loud. But…boys being boys two minutes later they were back in their imaginary world of make believe wars and fighting catastrophic odds.

A week had come and gone since the attempt on Sansa's life, a week heavy with tension and planning. The longest fucking week of his life.

"Consider it done than, Sir." He came to stand by his boss's side. Whatever he could do to make this right, to get Sansa out of danger, he would do it without question. He knew what that meant, what the sacrifice entailed and he was willing to pay the price because…because it was duty.

But that reason fell far below the real one. He could call his own bullshit if he had the mental strength to do so but right now he was too tired to fight with himself.

" You know you'll have to disappear for a while." Ned said without breaking his concentration to stare at the taller man. There were so many thoughts and wonderings swirling about him, the silent burdens and joys of being a parent along with a powerful businessman.

He knew. He knew well before he had to be told. Probably even before that. His life as a bodyguard/hired assassin for the Starks was one big disappearing act only to reappear three months later. Robb and Jon grew accustomed to the lapse of time fast, adaptable and happy for his return without questions. Arya, on the other hand, hated the way he left and never really said a goodbye, leaving things open with an _I'll see you later_ and little else. The others were too young to notice.

And Sansa…

" I know." Sandor shook his head decidedly, showing no hesitance. But inside the usual acceptance to sweep up the rest of a messy situation and leave it well and done in the past didn't come and sit peacefully in its rightful place. Ignoring the strange unwelcomed reaction he affirmed roughly, "I'll get it done tonight. You'll hear from me when I'm on my way out of the city."

Ned's squinted eyes crinkled further in understanding. "I'll be in touch when I think you're in the clear."

Misery dampened the older man's face like a father's forced hand against a disobedient child. He hated this part of the job. Killing was always Ned's last resort, but sometimes, unfortunately, it was the only option.

Turned out Cersei was using her little brother as a puppet to enact her own plans for power and money. She enabled Tyrion's gambling addiction, made sure he owed a few dangerous bookies, and set up the plan to not only keep her family's territory, but take from Ned as well. Supposedly she had been in opposition with her father for some time, wanting to expand their empire and broaden their horizons by eliminating several of the competing families. Tywin refused and so she took matters into her own hands.

Kidnapping Sansa was only the step stoning for a much grander scheme.

Sandor could only scoff at the amateur maneuver. Cersei was a savvy women but she strategized with her heart instead of her head. The whole back alley deal was riddled with greed and reeked of sloppiness. Taking Sansa hostage would only provoke a war not kick start the Lannister power to state borders.

But Cersei was a Lannister. And the Lannisters didn't mind bloodshed. In fact, they relished human demolition if it furthered their selfish cause. They killed their own if need be; loyalty was a foreign concept even amongst their own camp. One of the many reasons why Sandor never cared for them as a family or business partners. He only put up with their presence because Ned respected Tywin so much, but respect could blind a person to truth sometimes; camouflage what was blatantly obvious to the rest of the world.

Sandor wasn't one to look back but the women was a fool and now her foolishness would cost her the only life she really cared for-her own.

Turning Ned sat back at his desk, leaning against his chair and playing with the letter opener. " You know I would do this myself if I could…I don't like someone else cleaning up my messes. It's my family and I want to protect them," he wavered a bit at the end. There was nothing more crippling than being powerless to stop harm from coming to your own doorstep.

" Sir….this is my job. I want…I know this will make things right. That's all that matters." Sandor was feeling pretty helpless himself. He couldn't remember the last time he slept. Actually he could but that was not what he wanted to think about now. He hadn't seen her since that night. Her parents had put her on lockdown because of what happened at the bar. He couldn't say he blamed them because he would have done the same. Plus he had a job to do, find the fucks that tried to kill her. Tunnel vision could be a pretty benefiting quirk in such pressuring matters.

Their night together felt like ages from where he was now. And just seconds from where his brain could easily follow . Didn't matter. Because she invaded his dreams, every inch of space time left available to him. Even awake. On line to get coffee, picking up his mail, all veritable distractions from the collage of small moments and images sown together in his head. Her tiny puffs of breaths that stirred the skin of his chest, the way her lips moved while she slept, the flutter of her lashes that told him she was dreaming. All her and all tattooed to some dusty corner of his heart he had left deserted.

" I don't know what I'd do without you Sandor. I feel better it's you doing this but at the same time… I want you by my side with my family, protecting us. I don't trust anyone at this point." The fierce coldness in his tone stank of betrayal. There was still so many unanswered questions. Yes, the Lannisters were guilty but to know Sansa's whereabouts and such…Cersei had to have gotten to someone on the inside. " This plan might end up starting a war but it has to be done. I wont rest another day with that kind of danger out there."

" I can still make myself useful while I'm up at my cabin. Ask questions...and what not." And he meant that with every cell of his being. No person working under the Stark name would be overlooked no matter how close or how long they had been an employee.

" I know you said that guy Vin the bartender over at **Reds** gave you a good alibi of self defense but a few of the patrons gave your description to the cops…you don't need that kind of heat."

Hands in his pocket, Sandor didn't have to have it spelled out." I know."

" Plus you stick out like a sore thumb my friend…it wouldn't take long for them to find you." Ned allowed a small chuckle to pass his tight lips.

Being large always seemed to work against him, this was no exception. He forced a smile but had nothing to say and let the silence speak for him. He hated the waiting when he was put in charge of executing an order. He'd feel better once Cersei Lannister was six feet under and the rest of the assholes who decided to tempt fate and dare try and hurt her were gasping their last breaths.

He would be okay than because she would be. And not a minute before.

Sansa had called him every day since being at his apartment. Everyday but today. He hadn't answered her. Not one of her calls. He couldn't. If he let himself indulge in her for even one second he would slip up, fuck everything to hell and she would pay the consequences in the end. Sandor would cut off his shooting arm before he let that happen.

He could only guess that her lack of a call today meant she knew that he was disappearing for a while. Ned tried to keep as much from his family as possible but the older his children got the more trying the task became. She was in college, which was around the time Robb and Jon began to find out bits and pieces of how Ned operated his business. Sansa deserved more than some textbook explanation since her life had been at stake twice now. He wasn't exactly sure what her father had told her, but being the perpetual cynic that he was, Sandor bet a year's rent she knew he was going.

" Is there anything else you need from me, Sir, before I go?" Sandor made his way over to the other side of the desk. It was about time he headed out. Being here only led to trouble his head couldn't afford at a time when he had a mission to get on.

" All business," Ned commented lightly, mirroring his actions and standing to come around his desk and pat the bodyguard's shoulder. " I wont forget this." He said the words as a pledge, with more sincerity than any boss he had ever known.

Awkwardly Sandor nodded. Except for lately emotions were a strange impolite visitor. He patted the man back and both their hands fell at the same time.

" They'll be wanting to say goodbye you know…" For the first time in a week the gray in the elder Stark's eyes sparkled. " I know we don't usually make a big deal out of this but considering what everyone has been through recently…I wanted my children to be able to say goodbye to you…knowing that you'd be back. They've had enough scares to last a lifetime."

Shit. This was the hurdle for him. This, this was a brand of fucking torture designed specifically to mind fuck him senseless. " I don't want to disturb the family …I think its better-"

" Nonsense." Ned waved a hand off. " I told them you would be gone for some time and they immediately started bellowing complaints…Arya leading the crowd."

Arya, not Sansa. He wondered what that meant.

Ignoring the pang, Sandor forced a soft chuckle from his throat. The little hell raiser was the loudest of the Stark children, but still it was the redheaded eighteen year old that won the prize of them all. On the outside she might look like a nun taking her vow of silence, but when her temper kicked in she was as stubborn as a ornery goat. She gave more trouble and more headaches than all five combined. It definitely was the quiet ones that had to be watched.

Sighing in defeat Sandor could only gather a small smile as he moved out of Ned's way and said, " Let's get it over with than."

~8~

Goodbyes were a part of life, inevitable no matter what path a person chose. So he decided long ago to rebel against the system, leave them for another time and place and if he was meant to see the person again, fate would intervene.

He was always the one to stay in the car and wait as Jory and BenJen kissed the kids, ruffled their hair and made jokes to wipe away the sad frowns off their faces. Once in a while he'd put Arya in a mock headlock and threaten her to be good or she'd pay with no rides in his car, no football games… something along those lines. Jon and Robb were easy, quick firm handshakes and that was that.

Bran and Rickon were still a little weary of him. Not that he could blame them, he'd be scared of him too. A tangled mess of scars on one side of his face, dark coarse hair shadowed his jaw and if that wasn't enough to bring on the nightmares there was his height and mass. Sandor never took their hesitance with him personal, they would warm up in their time.

That was how he thought things would be with Sansa. She would get that stick out of her ass when the world came caving in on her pampered plans, but he was all wrong about her, had been from the very beginning and would probably be so for the rest of his days.

She was the one he never could seem to wrap a correct opinion around to pinpoint in the right category. If there was one thing he hated was being wrong and uncertain at the same time. With her it was like he had been dropped into a foreign country without a guide. Every turn led somewhere different but more exotic than the last.

Making his way into the living room he stopped in his tracks at the sight that laid in front of him.

What a sad picture they made. Mopey long faces and rainy day eyes.

All except her.

She was still as a statue, her expression blank and enigmatic as she stared at the floor and nothing else. He dared not glance at her more than a second at a time. For her sake and his. He wouldn't drag the pain out longer than need be.

Fuck this was not where he thought things would be a week ago. Who was he fucking kidding though, there hadn't been much thinking at all when he taken her body.

" Don't go…" Arya sniffled clutching the living room sofa pillow. " I feel like you just left us."

" Cause I did." He smiled sadly. " Spring remember…your father needed me…" he let the words fall away.

Unable to hide her resentment Arya glared at her father who was quiet by his wife's side, sitting on the arm of the sofa. " He always needs you it seems."

Sandor couldn't help but chuckle at her outright displeasure with the situation. He was almost flattered if he had the time to think on it. " Part of the job …you going to be good while I'm gone? I'll be asking your father for a full report every time I check in."

She rolled her eyes knowing his trademark jest was just that. " Maybe I'll get into trouble just so you have to come back."

He leaned in to catch her challenging gaze. " If you do that I wont watch any games with you…"

" You promised!" That was a long time ago but he did. " Does that mean you'll be back before the season starts?" Shifting from anger to hopeful in two seconds flat.

They started every football season together. Hopefully his words weren't said in vain. He didn't like to commit to something he wasn't positive he could do. " I will try."

Arya rushed to him, locking her arms fully around him. " I'm going to keep you to it." She muffled into his stomach.

And that he knew she would. She was a stubborn little one. He peeked at the girl on his right. Not half as taxing or mind consuming as some though.

He shook Jon and Robb's hand, again made another promise to go fishing first thing when he got back. They both grinned widely as if they'd go out into the garage and start baiting their lines just to in case he got back sooner. Bran and Rickon were left outside which was a good idea considering their trepidation with him.

Sandor shook Ned's hand again, a firm good shake that told him a lot about the man opposite him. He wasn't just his boss or a figure he greatly respected. Somewhere down the line he had become a friend.

" Catelyn," he kissed her cheek and she stood on her tippy toes to kiss him back.

" Be well Sandor," the mother of five gently extended. " And thank you again…for everything."

They were all making more of this than it should be. This was his job, not some volunteer work he did out of the goodness of his heart. A heart that was as black as sin and as irredeemable as the devil himself.

Walking over it was as if cement had been poured into his shoes. He couldn't step any slower if he wanted to.

" Sansa," he spoke lowly, the ten eyes at his left boring holes into his back, making the skin burn. " I'll see you soon." He tried to sound believable, she needed to know he would be there if she needed him, but…but that was it.

Her face remained impassive, like a chiseled perfectly constructed statue set for viewing but untouchable. She wouldn't meet his eyes, her stare rooted at his chest and never straying up. He could tell she had been crying, red rimmed eyes as glassy and murky as an abandoned pond.

After seconds that dragged like hours, Arya nudged Sansa at her elbow.

" What's the matter with you...you've been like this all week."

Sansa could only glare down at her sister from her side, swallowing slow like she had razor blades in her throat.

" Goodbye Sandor."

She was a wreck. She wasn't even trying to fucking hide it. Her hair hung in a ponytail of knotted waves around her. Her lips were chapped, the flesh broken and clotted on her lower lip, and her skin was paler than was healthy. She was wearing one of Jon's oversized college sweaters and sweatpants with room enough to fit Arya in.

The muscles in his arms clenched and ached at the repression to stay still and not move toward her. If they were alone…

He shook his head, wiping the thought clean before he gave the silly notion attention. She was a drug that when it entered his system he couldn't seem to get enough of. " Promise me you'll take care of yourself. Don't do anything stupid."

He was the one demanding the promises now. He'd have it from her mouth or stand there and rot away until she surrendered her foolish stubbornness.

This time she glanced up at him, the hope and care that shone in her gorgeous eyes when she woke up next to him was dead and buried. " Promises don't mean anything."

" Sansa-"

" But if that's what you need to hear," she gritted her teeth like she was ready to spit at him, " than I promise."

The blue glower she shot him flared to life like a bonfire gone out of control by an unseen wind. He didn't fucking believe her and he didn't want to leave her like this, not like this. Not after everything they had been through together.

Seemed like they were back to the petulant antics born between them from what felt like a lifetime ago. Staring each other down and neither of them backing away to ease the tension or stop the mounting discomfort. Following a week of searching for answers to impossible questions he was too dog tired to screen his actions, making a fist and curling his fingers tight into balls . It was all he could do to stop from doing what he really wanted.

He wanted to yell, scream, sit her down until she got the fucking gravity of what he was about to do. But he was imprisoned by his current state and forced to play a goddamn role he was ill suited to play anymore.

" I'll make sure you keep your promise girl," he said openly as a threat and didn't give a shit what any member of her family had to say about it.

His only reply was a stare as sharp and bright as the glint of a sword followed by a, " Right," that was for his ears only. He didn't trust her, not when it came to her own life. She still had her head in the clouds and eyes looking up for her white knight that would never come. He wasn't a fucking knight or savior, not even close. He didn't belong anywhere near perfection like her.

He gave one last farewell nod before making for the front door, not braving a glance back.

Hearts were a funny little contraption. He always thought his was a bit off, never really set the same way others were and he found himself lucky in such a way. But there were moments where emotions snuck up on him, reminded him just how alive and fucked he was.

His heart was a nagging bitch that kept him in check…and as he closed the door behind him the tug to feel pulled a lot harsher than he would ever be willing to admit.

Yeah Sandor Clegane felt.

Not that anyone would ever live long enough by his side to know it.

~8~

Raindrops were coming down in scattered plops and the darkened sky looked angry above him; a misty smudge of black and gray clouds, distant rumbles of thunder threatened every few minutes about the impending storm not too far in the distance.

Early mornings were not his thing. After a night like he had just had he wanted a shower and bed and a window of a about two days of nothing but sleep. He had to go home and wash up, he wouldn't drive eight hours with blood on him and sweat dripping down his back. But he couldn't seem to make himself go home.

The drive to keep going, move forward and find her hammered across his skull like a hypnotic chant he couldn't shake. Where would she be he had no fucking clue. It was almost sunrise so she should be home in her bed, deep in sleep….should be. Something told him different.

His gut, whether the inkling was good or bad, said she was out there somewhere. And he needed to see her. He couldn't leave with this gaping ravine of misunderstanding between them. Now that the immediate danger was eliminated he could breathe easy without feeling a vise tighten around his ribcage.

Shifting into park, the sign for **Reds** shone the obnoxious color of its name into his weary eyes. He knew the place wouldn't be open but he'd wait it out here and think. Get an hour or two of shuteye call Ned at a decent hour and then find Sansa, fix this by telling her he was sorry…telling her …Fuck he didn't even know. Than he'd hit the road.

Rubbing his eyes hard Sandor scanned the parking lot and noticed another car was there. It was in the shadows across from him where a few trees were bent over, hiding an otherwise clear view.

It was still too dark out to see if there was anyone in the driver's seat, but the car was red…a red mustang. He saw the black stripes that coated both sides of the doors and when he scanned the license plate recognition hit him in the kidneys.

He got out, a little reluctant. Maybe this was a set up, a trap from an enemy that he had underestimated. He scanned the area, no signs of life or trouble leaped on his radar. Everything was as still as a countryside road. The only sound was the crunch of his boots stepping onto the gravel.

He could see now that no one was in the car. Fuck. He saw the college emblem dangling from the rearview mirror. This was definitely Jon's car. What the hell was going on?

That's when he heard the scrape of a shoe and a small muffled sniffle. He followed the direction from where it came from, behind the car.

He didn't have to go very far before he stiffened where he stood.

She was sitting Indian style behind the car, her face in her hands…and she was crying. Not just crying like a few tears falling where a tissue and a hug would suffice as help. This was the kind of crying that was silent, where breathing stopped and no words could heal the wound that had stemmed from nothing short of agony.

Sandor stayed fixed to the ground like he was part of the parking lot. He couldn't make a move if his life fucking depended on it. What was he suppose to do. Nothing he could utter would make this right or bandage the hurt they created. _He_ created. He knew from the first time he let himself feel those lips glide between his that they were fucking doomed. And he let it happen anyway. Was that care or love…or was he just that much of a selfish bastard?

Yes.

The rain was coming down harder now but he was locked and frozen, crazy glued to the sound of every shattering sob. After a minute or two the bobbing of her shoulders weakened and she eyed the sky, feeling the rain on her face and letting the cascade of water drench every detail of her.

He shifted the weight of his balance to his other foot and the slight gritty noise triggered the announcement of his presence like a shotgun at the beginning of a race.

Her head whipped around and she was on her feet before he could think to explain why he was there…just staring. Pieces of hair clung to her cheeks and her eyes went wild as an array of emotions held and demanded answers from him. If she was startled to see him she didn't show it.

The breath she had been holding released itself.

" Why did you get me the lemon ices?"

What.

That was the last question he was expecting. At least it was an easy one he could answer. He shortened the gap between them with only a small step but enough for room so he could think lucidly. " You liked them."

She licked the water that dripped off her lower lip. He was never more jealous of the rain. " But why…I haven't had lemon ices in years…"

" I remembered. Nothing more Sansa." He shrugged, not wanting to make a bigger deal of this than she thought it should be.

Her head nod was slow and skeptical. The sizzle in her eyes discontent.

" That's it nothing more. Is that your whole life Sandor? A big empty room of nothing mores. Don't get to close because it might mean something. Don't feel too much because it might inconvenience your heart. Don't go out of your way because it might make you think about something besides yourself."

She was shaking. He wasn't sure if it was the cold or the anger, but her teeth were rattling like a picket fence during a tornado. Didn't matter it was almost July, the dampness had a way of seeping in the bones. " Come into my truck. We'll talk in there."

He reached his hand out to touch her but she dodged his grip and backed away.

" Don't…d-don't touch me."

" I'm not gonna let you get sick."

" Why because my father might scold you." She cracked out sarcastically. " I'm fine."

He glared darkly at her, knowing she was as far from fine as he was. He was just doing a better job at hiding it.

" I wasn't following you if that's what your worried about. I couldn't sleep…I needed space. Jon let me take his car out. I wasn't planning to but I ended up here…I thought…I thought you'd be gone by now." The piercing sharp corner in her voice smoothed down in her explanation.

" I'll be gone soon enough," he heard himself say. Being up all night made him sound raw and broken down.

" Right." She gulped, one tear spilled down her cheek…or maybe it was the rain.

Without his mind's permission, his feet swallowed up some of the space that separated their bodies. " You always say that …I cared about you Sansa. I _care_."

She laughed, hearty and sardonic in its wake. " I hate that word…what does that really even mean…"

Defensive, he raked a hand through his hair. " Why do I have to explain myself. I showed you. Isn't that enough?"

Her watery eyes searched his. " What are you so afraid of?" she whispered always imploring for more. "Why are you here with me? Why do we keep seeming to find each other?" She erased the rest of the blockade of space. " I want answers and you just…just want to leave me. So easily."

" You don't know what you're saying."

" How do you do it…m-maybe you can show me how you seem to be able to flip a switch and not feel…not care. One second its like I can see what you want because it reflects everything I want and the next its like your this robot who short circuits their feelings when it's convenient for them…."

" I'm not a fucking robot."

" Than tell me what you are…tell me who you are…stop pushing me away like you do everyone else!"

He's the one who backed up now. She was crowding him out, making the need to concentrate that much harder." I'm sorry things ended up this way. I didn't want this for you."

" What do you want for me?" She never could just let things fucking be.

His turn was slow and somewhat defeated. The whole purpose of seeing her again was to be able to set her free and let her go. She was right. He was guilty of all she accused of him." I want you to be happy." 

She came nearer, clearly not satisfied with any reason he offered up no matter how hard he was trying to be honest. " But what if I said I was happy with you," she gulped down, back to brutally honest, "That you made me happier than anything else in my life."

" I would say you don't have much to compare me to in only eighteen years of experience."

Her hands slapped against her sides. " That's what this all comes back to doesn't it. My age." She zeroed in on his face, defiance winning out. " I don't care. I don't care how old I am or you. That doesn't matter to me."

" It matters to me Sansa."

That stopped her, made her pause and pensive. Her train- like gung ho full speed ahead declaration halted with a screech as loud as a four- car collision. She gave a short breath before she stumped him with a single heart- stopping sad as hell smile. One that broke the heart and healed it. " You know you were my first. My _real_ first. I tried to have sex once in high school and just as soon as it started I stopped. I was doing it for all the wrong reasons but mainly to get over you. I just wanted to be over _this_…and than Joffrey came along and he said and did everything perfect and I thought to myself this is the guy to make me forget about you completely. So I jumped in. Full throttle ya know. I gave him my heart or so I thought… and we had sex. Once also. It was all I needed to know that it wasn't what I wanted. But I thought to myself…ok this will just take some time. I was over you and as soon as I was in love with him I would have sex again and everything would be …_perfect_."

If he was suppose to say something his brain was a desolate graveyard she had just atom bombed.

" But I was wrong. As usual …I was so damn wrong. If you think I haven't tried to get on with my life, to live without you in my head, you're wrong! And that's why it matters. That's why this means something to me. You answered all those feelings and hopes in my heart without me even having to tell you…so if being younger or you being older is supposed to play some vital role in my decision making … it doesn't. I've tried, Sandor, and it doesn't. And I don't care, anymore. I don't."

He knew now that he had to pull deeper for words that had fallen in the cracks, dig deeper for an explanation he had shaped and reworded and tried to find a loophole around countless times. " It matters to me Sansa because… because I want you ok. Don't get you get that."

"Sandor-"

" Listen to me," he grabbed her by the elbows are drew her close, too close. A dangerous kind of close for them. Kisses and soft whispers kind of close. " Do you know where I was tonight? What I was doing before I found you here, huh, do you? I was killing. On your father's order I was taking someone's life and ending it. Don't you fucking get that! This isn't a fucking game and I'm no goddamn hero. Do you see the blood on me!"

She was trying to break free of him, shaking her head like she could undo what he had told her. " I don't care about that, it doesn't matter. I know what goes on with my father and the business he works in Sandor. I know you only did that because you had to. Because you were protecting me and my family…I had a loaded gun pointed at me a week ago. I don't live in some fantasy world." Her chest heaved out a gathered breath. " Not anymore."

It would be so easy to give in and just be. Just let himself cave in and feel her. To experience every angle curve and degree of her again. But than he would be right back where he started. " I don't give shit about a lot of things in my life. I don't care who comes and goes from my door. Understand what I'm saying?" He shook her hard. " But I want you fucking safe. I need you to be ok and live your life. You can't make me your life…not at eighteen years old. Not now. You've got so much going, so much to live for. And I'll be fucking damned before I'm that selfish that I take all that away from you."

"But you're what I want."

Was she even listening to a damn word he said!

" For now I am. There's a whole word at there that's yours for the asking. How can you know what you want when you don't even know what you can possibly have?"

She shook her head, water sprayed everywhere. The rain was beginning to lessen now, not that it mattered, they were both soaked to the bone. " I haven't lived my life in some sheltered castle. I know what the world has to offer, I know what's out there Sandor. And I know that what's between us is as real as anything I've ever seen."

He wouldn't argue anymore. Talking in circles was a fucking migraine waiting to happen and a waste of what little precious time they had. " Maybe so. But I won't shortchange you your future. I'll leave and never come back before I let that happen."

She worried her lip ferociously, blood peeked out and gathered in a small pool. She knew he didn't speak idly when he said such things." Are you even coming back?" she forced the question out, afraid of the answer but needing the closure of it despite the pain.

" That's the plan." Daring himself, he cupped her cheek. Wanting to remember the texture, processing the softness and silky smoothness for future reference. For nights alone around the fire with himself only for company." Life sometimes has others though."

Her hands splayed across his chest where his heart beat as she said, " Are you going to f-forget about me?"

Like that was ever a possibility even if he welcomed the idea. " Couldn't if I tried."

She blinked, fully aware of the double meaning of his admission. Than one side of her lip tilted up. She was doing a bit of memorizing herself. " I'm going to miss you."

He couldn't help but scoff a bit at the sentiment. Sometimes they were all explosions and fireworks, other times soft candlelight and harps. " I find that hard to believe…we are at each other's throats most of the time."

" I'd rather spend my time yelling with you than at some stupid party with my friends."

He couldn't have been more wrong about her. She wasn't some entitled airhead with a designer purse and a list of demands to be carried out. She never asked for anything in their time together but him. She never grumbled about Wal-Mart clothes or what type of food they ate. She appreciated each and every thing he did for her. The only reason they fought was because she wanted to be let into his heart and he wouldn't have it. Where she was open and sweet and so goddamn beautiful it hurt he was hard and cynical, always searching for the angle.

Both of his hands cupped at her jaw, his fingers dug into her scalp, pressing for a closeness he could never be satiated of. He wiped back the wet strands that plastered her face. The cool snowy white plane made a breath curl in his lungs and punch at them. Her blue eyes were sapphire gems suspended in wait on him. He swallowed. " I'm going to miss you Sansa."

She bit at her lip to stop the tears but they came regardless. " Take me with you."

His hold on her slackened," You know I cant do that."

" Why?" she begged.

" Because," he had to recall the rational part of him that was buried under everything else that had avalanched between them in just a few short minutes.

" Because of the reasons I already told you."

" Right."

" Hey," he lowered his head to catch her descending gaze. " This isn't…"

" What?"

" This isn't what I want either." He jaw clenched down hard like a bear trap. " Not even close."

" Right."

" Stop saying that." If he had his way he'd never leave or they'd leave together. No suitcases or plans just promises and a whole lot of fucking sex. He settled with an answer as ambiguous as his features. " If you knew what I was thinking you'd never doubt me again."

Her stare danced between his, in pursuit of his thoughts that were bolted tight behind a vault as thick as a iron. When she realized her search was futile she settled for his own understanding of her.

"When I went to the bar that night I really just wanted to apologize. To thank you. That's why I came. I wasn't trying to follow you or beg something out of you. I felt bad for the way I acted in the car after everything you'd done. I know this isn't easy...You're like a part of my family. Trying to be loyal to my dad and keeping me away from harm…but you and I together t-that changes things-"

" Sansa."

" I know we're not together…I just mean-"

" Maybe I'm part of that harm to you. You ever think about that." Her face was encased between his large calloused hands, torn between wanting to drag her into the pickup truck and back to his apartment and not wanting her to see him for who he really is.

" No." She said so certain in her belief of him. " Never." Her thumb traced his rough rigid jaw line. " You really don't know how wonderful you are."

He surrendered a minutes worth of air at her undeserved praise of him. She might as well have been standing in front of him naked and waiting. He was a slave to each and every thing she said and did. Leaning his forehead against hers a strangled sigh escaped his lips. " I meant it when I said you better not do anything stupid."

She chuckled in her throat, trying to look down but he wouldn't let her. " That's not your problem anymore."

" You were never a problem." His slid his nose against hers. "You don't even know..."

His mouth rubbed across hers. His upper lip connected than broke, stuck again than fell well only to come back more hesitant than the first time. The rain slipped between each break before he finally surrendered what little fight he had and fused his lips to hers, sliding his tongue across the rough surface of hers. The friction had him bending down and pawning harder at her mouth, savoring warm closeness.

Sansa was clutching at his shirt than the back of his neck and hair, clinging to him like a life preserver in the midst of open water. Their gasps fell and grew between them and after minute of furious gulped kisses he broke away and straightened, holding his hand over his mouth and watching as tears poured down her face. Her mouth was swollen and red from his uncaged want. He was breathing heavy, looking down at her like a man destitute of a hunger and thirst only she could supply.

Crazed he ripped a hand through his hair and said something before he let his thoughts do the talking. " I better be going."

" Yeah.. I…" her compliance small and shriveled, " will you…can you keep in touch?"

" Don't think that's a good idea," he implied as gently as his erratic heart would let him. " If you need to pass on a message tell your father. Ill be asking about you when I talk to him."

She drew closer and he stayed absolutely still, clamping up and praying she didn't collide with a part of his soul that ached for her touch. " I'll wait for you. No matter how long it takes…I'll wait."

He wanted to say not to bother, he wanted to hurt her enough so she'd stomp away, drive home and curse the day she ever met him, but he wouldn't let himself be that much of a bastard. He was more selfish than even he realized. "Ok."

She wrapped her arms around him and he followed, hugging her tight to where his large frame swallowed her up. He kissed the top of her head, breathing in her fresh achingly warm scent than let her go completely and backed away. He refused to say goodbye even if it was. He didn't believe in them now more than ever. He couldn't.

She sniffled into her jacket than wobbled out, " Goodbye," watching as he continued to walk to his truck, not breaking eye contact.

" No goodbyes..." And than he turned, opened his door and jumped in. His vision was blurred as he turned the ignition on feeling her stare on him and trying his best to ignore her presence in his head and keep moving. Turning the wheel left he pulled out the parking lot and eyed the rearview mirror for a quick second to see her still standing there.

She was such a stubborn little thing. Never gave up. Not even until the bitter end.

How she could question him ever forgetting her he was baffled. She was as much a part of him as the heart lodged in his chest and the lungs that gave him oxygen. No one forgets a person like that even when life turns the tables or death comes knocking.

Part of him wanted to forget. Forget everything between them, but in the end that was just his pride talking. He wanted the memories, would hold them against himself like a warm fire on nights where the cold and the bloody world was too much to handle. He would look back on her and remember and be glad for one lucky minute of his life she was fully in it.

Maybe this was a lesson learned although he wasn't sure what the lesson was. Not yet anyways. All he knew from this was that he knew a part of himself he hadn't known. A part he long ago buried and shut out. She opened it up without permission, without his consent, and he wanted to throttle and kiss her for it.

But now that he knew what it felt like to love how was he suppose to shut it back down?

He'd figure it out. Somewhere down the line he'd figure it out.

He couldn't regret her.

No matter what came next he couldn't…that's what love did to a person.


End file.
